Christmas Magic
by kakashidiot
Summary: For penance, embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki is doing time on Earth. After being taken off the streets of New York for the Secret Operation Bring Loki Home for Christmas, Loki struggles to enjoy Christmas - wishlists, cutting and decorating the tree, etc. Which is an emotional roller-coaster for Thor. And perhaps, you, dear reader. If you join in the fun! Complete!
1. The Status of Reindeer Games

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Note: This is going to be a series of drabblet/short chappie fic. Hopefully finished before Christmas.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 1  
The Status of Reindeer Games

"Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer,  
Had a very shiny nose.  
And if you ever saw him,  
you would say it glows.  
All of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names,  
They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games."  
("Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" sung by Gene Autry)

"Well, if it isn't Reindeer Games." A familiar voice spoke up behind him, causing him to whirl around and glare up at a painfully and equally familiar red and gold metal suit.  
"The Metal Man," spat Loki, shoulders tensing as his fists curled up, ready to take on the Avenger.  
"Iron Man," corrected the arrogant human. "It's the Iron Man. If you're going to be a proper super villain now, at least get it right. Jeez. Has the criminal world gone to the dogs or something?"

Loki ground his teeth.

"Oh wait..." The Metal Man, Loki corrected himself, _Iron – Iron Man_, held up a finger. "I don't think you even qualify anymore."

If looks could kill, Anthony Stark, playboy, philanthropist, etc etc would have died three seconds ago. Alas, glares had no effect on the egotistical Avenger.

"Iron Man," Loki growled, arms quivering. "You will regret this. One day, you will pay for your petty remarks so easily falling from your lips – as I tear you apart from limb to limb and show you the true meaning of power –"  
"Key word – one day. Not today." Stark grinned inside his suit as Loki began to turn an interesting shade of pink.  
"I am patient," was the bitter reply. "I have not waited a thousand years of imprisonment and torture in order to merely bandy words with some coward who can never even dream of equalling my powers!"

Tony Stark, cocking his head and contemplating the ex-God of Mischief who seemed to be in danger of giving himself an aneurism. As he watched Loki rant on for a few minutes (_really, the guy just doesn't know how to stop, does he? Who does that remind me of?_), Stark couldn't help but notice something was a bit... off. _Loki really isn't himself_, the genius billionaire thought, surprising himself with that realization. _Has he lost weight?_

"Uhhh... Yeah, have fun with that."  
"I will have 'fun'," Loki spat out. "As you so glibly put it, I will have my day and –"  
"Have you lost weight?"  
"You will – what?"  
"Lost weight. Just wondering. You look a little – gaunt? Unless you're auditioning for Jack the Skeleton King? Which would be interesting by the way – I think I'd pay to see that. Holy shit, don't tell me – you're a Lent kind of guy. Or what – no, that's Easter, isn't it? Sorry, wrong season."

Loki stared at Iron Man, face blank and perplexed. His green eyes seemed larger in his thinner face, giving him a bizarrely peaky look. _Not that he looked good the first time I met him either_, Iron Man mused. _I guess that's usual for super intense super villains?_ Iron Man looked down._ Yes. Definitely not looking any better. Wait... _He realized something with horror._ Is he still wearing the __same__ clothing?_

The ex-God of Mischief appeared to be wearing the same black leathers, severely scuffed boots and the usual Asgardian trench coat he had worn the day he had tossed Stark out of the window. Yet, everything definitely showed wear and tear. Stark couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be a patch on Loki's collar and a couple other tears neatly stitched. Yes, definite wear and tear. And everything hung on his tall frame a bit too loosely to be healthy.

"Not that I give a damn," Tony found himself saying the last thoughts he had out loud. "Just wondering. I must say the rugged look kinda suits you. The Chitauri must have been worried about whether you were pansy back in the day... But now you definitely seem to be channelling some kind of woodsy, outdoorsy – whoa there, Rudolph!"

Scooting upward in the air as Loki lunged at him with an Asgardian curse, the Iron Man shook his head forlornly, tut-tutting as the ex-God of Mischief curled up in pain as the seizures of Odin's spells shook him again. It looked mind-numbingly torturous but Iron Man knew better than to get closer.

"Forgot the restraints, huh. What a bummer. Or maybe not," the billionaire petered off as he watched Loki force his shaking hands to push himself up slowly from the sidewalk. The green eyes were filled nothing with despair and rage and for a moment Tony Stark tasted bitterness.  
It wasn't what he wanted to see after all.  
Because he understood.  
Sometimes he woke up in Pepper's arms still shaking from the memories.

When he tore himself away from the thought, Tony Stark discovered that Loki had staggered off down a small alley branching off the cul-de-sac they had met in. For a moment, he considered following Loki, but something told him that Loki would only hate him more if Iron Man looked down on him, as he found barely enough strength to stumble down the desolate alley to whatever pathetic home waited for him.

_Reindeer Games isn't going to be the hero any time soon._ Iron Man rose upwards to watch Loki painfully make his way down the quiet alley, dark head bent, lanky, unwashed hair brushing his bony shoulders, which looked even more frail from far away. Tony cursed to himself absently. _It's not like he's anywhere close to Rudolph, really. If Santa's Odin, I'd say Rudolph's never going to be the head of any sleigh in his super long lifetime. _

Tony Stark returned home, quieter and more thoughtful than usual.

* * *

**Please review and let me know what you think!**


	2. The Secret of this Crazy Christmas

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 2  
The Secret of this Crazy Christmas

That little gift you send on Christmas Day  
Will not bring back the friend, you've turned away.  
So, may I suggest the secret of Christmas.  
It's not the things you do at Christmas time  
But the Christmas things you do all year through.  
("The Secret of Christmas" sung by Julie Andrews)

"So, you returning to Asgard for Christmas?" Tony asked Thor that night, around a mouthful of pizza. "Not that I mind having you around. At all. And – does Asgard do Christmas anyway? I can kinda imagine Odin as being like Santa Claus on steroids or something. If Santa wore armour and went for super long naps."  
"I do not know this Santa whom you speak of, son of Stark."  
"Tony. I said it before, Thor, Tony."  
"Son of Tony."  
"No. Just... just... Never mind. Son of Stark it is."  
"Listen..." Thor paused. "Tony. The winter solstice is a time of revelry for my people – although I have no knowledge of the Festival of Christmas other than what Jane imparted to me last week."  
"Well, it's after your time." Tony paused and glanced at Bruce who shrugged and nodded equably. "Yeah, long after your time or something like that. So, I'm guessing Jane will want you to enjoy it with her this year."  
"Indeed," Thor replied easily, with a wide grin. "She told me that she has many suprises for me. Is this common here?"  
"Uh..." Bruce blinked. "What is common?"  
"For this Festival of Christmas to be filled with surprises for men from the women who wish to show their love?"  
"For everyone, really," Tony chuckled, wondering what Pepper had up her sleeve. "I can't wait for this year."  
"Really? Why is that, friend?"  
"Well, I have Pepper this year. Pepper in a special way," Tony mumbled vaguely. "And I have Bruce here, full-time. And there's Stevie Boy Wonder settling in. You. A proper Avenger's Christmas. If we're lucky, Doctor Doom will sleep in and we can dust some easy villains off, for exercise before we get to the turkey. Like Loki."

Thor's ever expressive gaze clouded over at his brother's name, but he just sat down and accepted a glass of scotch from his friend. Bruce glanced at Tony and jerked his head.

"Yeah, speaking of the devil – or rather," Tony paused. "The not-devil, since he's been, well, more or less defanged. Have you seen Loki lately?"  
"He has been avoiding me."  
"Huh. Interesting."  
"Why you say that?" Bruce asked, shifting his glaces up again, while grabbing another pizza slice. Thor helped himself to two more, obviously now rather unhappy.

_Probably because he's torn between having to keep tabs on his brother and being with Jane in New Mexico for Christmas_, Tony guessed.

Tony focussed on Bruce again. "Just – the guy's not Mr. Speedy, you know. I would have thought it would be easy for Mr. Bleeding Heart to keep tabs on his brother."  
"Yes," Thor sighed. "It is only that my brother only becomes... worse... when I come near. In the end, I realized that losing his powers pains him more than even Odin-Father could understand. Magic was always a part of Loki, even as a babe, or so my mother said. Without it, he must feel like... nothing. Vulnerable and unable to wreak his vengeance. Seeing me can only pour salt upon the wounds."  
"Keep pouring – that's what Barton would say," Bruce said dryly. "But I can only imagine what issues that guy has to be dealing with. According to Tony, he's been there for quite awhile, which can't have been so good either. Imprisonment, for sure. But if there was torture involved... Forget a head full of cats – he probably has a herd of tigers in there –"  
"A streak."  
"What?"  
"It's a streak of tigers," Tony shrugged, opening another beer. "Or an ambush. Take your pick. Either fits with the Loki we know and love."  
"Yeah, whatever," Bruce rolled his eyes and turned to Thor, who suddenly seemed to be unwilling to speak on the matter. "I still don't get why your dad sent someone like that down here."  
"To learn a lesson," Tony snorted. "Didn't you get the memo?"  
"Tony," Bruce said mildly.  
"I wonder if Odin-Father also knows that Loki's probably going to die of starvation before he changes," added the genius.

Thor's eyes sharpened and his brows furrowed. A small glimmer of excitement and hope shone in his eyes.

"You have seen him, then. Recently."  
"Yesterday. Don't tell Pepper."  
"And?" Bruce poured himself another drink. Just the thought of Loki made him feel a bit antsy under his skin. Deep down inside, he knew he was darkly chuckling.  
"I kinda poked fun at him a bit and I was standing there and watching him rage and foam and stuff – you know – he's kinda inventive – how he can come up with new ways to destroy us. I don't know if I'd go to sleep with him in the room with a plasticene fork."  
"I wouldn't sleep with him in the room. Period." Bruce rolled his eyes.  
"Yeah well, just hearing it is kinda – you know, entertaining. He could be a Youtube celebrity – get his five minutes of internet fame."  
"He is famous on the internet already, Tony. Between the whole 'let's take over the world' and the Crime Watch warning... I don't know, he's already bit of a celebrity, you could say."

"Notoriety. Bruce, he's lost weight."  
"What?"  
"Funny. That's what he said too."  
"You told him he lost weight?" Bruce asked fascinated.

Thor blinked at Tony and his face tightened with worry. _If the Man of Metal can see a change in Loki, then something is amiss. When was the last time I saw him? Three months past, yes, but perhaps I should not have left him so alone. No matter what he said._

"Well, I just had to ask. I don't think he's eating. He tried to attack me – again – and ended up seizing – again – and then hobbled off."  
"Tony, that's..."  
"It's not cruel!"  
"I didn't say it was cruel – but... you have to admit it's kinda mean to beat on a mentally unstable ex-inmate... street person."  
"What – street person – just say it, Bruce. Bum. He's living on the street. He's a bum. Wait – he's seriously living on the street?" Tony frowned. "Why doesn't he get a – never mind."

_Of course not. People would have to be insane to hire him. _

"Yeah."  
"My brother has no home?" Thor asked, eyes wide and round and panicked. "Why has he not come to me?"  
"I think he'd rather die in a sewer than ask for your help, buddy," Tony sighed. "But... I don't know. I've been thinking. It's Christmas. Well, it's December. Soon it'll be Christmas. I just... kinda... feel bad. Don't read too much into it."  
"I feel bad too," Bruce said, deadpan. "I've got a bad feeling about this. This is another of your very bad, hopeless ideas that never get anywhere."  
"Shush," Tony glared at his friend. "I don't pay you to disagree with me all the time."  
"Son of Stark," Thor leaned forward, seized with hope. "I would be forever in your debt if you would welcome my brother into our circle during this Festival. Jane has been interested in meeting my brother –"  
"I'm sure she is," Bruce mumbled.  
"– and this will be the most opportune moment to show my brother the heart and hospitality of Midgard. And then, perhaps, his lonely heart can remember what it is to be in a warm circle of comrades again."  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow the hell down," Tony grimaced. "I don't think that a present and some alcohol and turkey are going to change your crazy as batshit brother, but I'm just saying that we need to give the poor bastard a chance to eat some food and sleep in a warm place until the worst weather is over. That's all."  
"Stark Tower – the new halfway home," Bruce said dreamily. "I can see it now."  
"Fuck off, Bruce," Tony replied sweetly.  
"Think Fury will be OK with it?" asked Bruce. "And the others?"  
"Fury would be glad to remove Loki from the streets permanently... But I guess that's not part of the agreement – so, this could be a close second. I think he'd say yes."  
"Son of Stark," Thor clasped Tony's shoulder again with his large, warm hand. "I truly thank you from the depths of my heart. Loki would, too, if –"  
"No, he wouldn't."  
"Perhaps not," grimaced Thor.  
"Yeah. Well, I feel like I may regret this," Tony sighed. "In fact, I think I'm already regretting it."  
"Hm," Bruce raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Don't get ahead of yourself. He's got to say 'yes' as well. Bringing Loki in may be the hardest part."  
"Good point. Now, that's the man I hired!"

* * *

Please let me know what you think! THANKS~!


	3. Driving Home For Christmas

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS!

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 3  
Driving Home For Christmas

"Driving home for Christmas  
Oh, I can't wait to see those faces  
I'm driving home for Christmas, yea  
Well I'm moving down that line  
And it's been so long  
But I will be there  
I sing this song  
To pass the time away  
Driving in my car  
Driving home for Christmas"  
("Driving Home For Christmas" - sung by Chris Rea)

Steve Rogers returned from his second motorcycle trip (this time he had visited the Adirondacks) and felt, for the first time, a surge of happiness as Stark Tower hoved into view in between the other tall buildings which lined the crowded streets. The traffic was, as usual, awful. The lights seemed to last longer than usual. Everything seemed louder, noisier, brighter than usual. _And yet_, he mused. _It is going to be all right. This is my home now – and the sooner I get used to this, the better. Besides_, he grinned to himself, _it's Christmas. I don't think those kinds of traditions get forgotten so quickly. _

Three years since the whole Tesseract and Loki incident. Three years since the awkward beginning of the Avengers. Three years since his first motorcycling trip. Life was finally starting to make some kind of sense. _Although there are some things that I will never understand..._ Here, the man also known as Captain America, subconsciously fingered the cellphone in his pocket. _But, over time, it can only get better. And this is the season of hope. And peace. No negative thoughts, Steve._

The light changed green. He surged forward with the traffic and found himself swept up to the Tower soon enough. JARVIS was already opening the doors for him.

_Yes, it was good to be... home... again._

-0-0-0-

Barton was outside a hotel room window listening into a weapons deal which involved some kind of unknown tech being handed over to some Russian. If it was an unknown tech – as in, alien or SHIELD, he knew that his intel would end up in the Black Widow's hands and the Russian would find himself suddenly indisposed. Or worse.

He smiled to himself.

Fury had called to let him know that he could return to the Stark Tower temporarily. Y_ou're still on call_, the one-eyed director had warned Hawkeye, _but I'm sure you want to have a chance of having a normal Christmas for once. _

The first Christmas they'd had (after the Tesseract), Barton had found himself on a stake out very similar to this. Then he had had to go in and things had gotten messy and before he knew it, he was in a hospital bed with two gunshot wounds. The next Christmas, he was stuck out in the Alps backing up Natasha. Then, there was the whole Doctor Doom incident during the last Christmas. _And there's a chance the bastard could show up this year, although reports say that he's laying low. I don't trust him._ Just thinking about the Doctor reminded the archer of long dark hair, sharp green-blue eyes and a winsome smile. _Damn them all._ He turned his attention back to the wire tap.

But this Christmas would be different. There'd be Natasha. And the Avengers. And that would mean the arrogant dick, Tony Stark – _but it also means tons of alcohol. Could be OK. Could be fun. Afterwards, Nat and I..._ Clint smiled to himself, eyes still sharp on his target, but his mind far away.

The briefcase opened and blueprints were held up. Conversation flowed. Nuclear weapons. Clint slipped off his earphones, packed up swiftly and left without a trace. After debriefing with Fury (resulting in the CIA getting a heads-up call), Clint walked out to the small car he had invested in a year and a half ago. Revamped by Tony, mainly. He paused at the familiar sight of a curvy woman in black, a deep red scarf and a mop of red curls. A smile lit up his face.

Natasha.

He was already home.

-0-0-0-

Bruce wondered if Tony really knew what he was doing. Part of him – the Other Guy – was chuckling maniacally, hoping for a chance to put a new imprint of Loki in Tony's floor. Loki, Bruce had come to realize, was Hulk's favourite toy. He wondered if Loki knew. _Loki should be proud_, he wryly smiled at himself in the reflective screen of his laptop.

And yet. And yet. Another part of him was worried.

_This can not be good_, he thought. _It's not possible. There's no way this can work out. There's no happy ending for this. There's no magic Christmas magic to fix this._ He found himself gripping his stylus a bit too tightly. _Some things_, he thought wistfully, staring at himself and seeing nothing but a face – green eyes – alight with the fire of rage and hurt. And another place – Harlem destroyed beneath his hands and feet.

_Some things will always be broken._

-0-0-0-

Thor was torn. At the first mention of this unknown Festival, the blonde-haired god had caught Jane's enthusiasm swiftly. It seemed that this Festival was her favourite time of year (so of course, it must also be his) – and was also celebrated all around the world in a variety of ways. He listened to her for a good hour, sharing a meal in her trailer. There was a lot of talk about trees and some kind of bird that would be roasted and eaten and singing certain songs and of course alcohol and that's when she had laughed and her eyes had sparkled and Thor had to lean in and kiss her again. She had asked, like Bruce later did, if Asgard also had a similar kind of celebration.

He told her about Winter Solstice, knowing that as he recalled the festivities with fondness she would realize that he had missed many winters thanks to his half a year stay on Midgard. It came to him easily – the memories of snow which piled waist high and the men went out for hunting in the mountains and returned, carrying hoary boars and mighty oxen. And bear. And on occasion, the fur of a wolf. There was feasting and pretty maidens by the dozen to choose from to warm your bed. _Unless... unless..._ and here, he realized that perhaps, he had forgotten his younger brother. _Again. Kept indoors during the winter season as all the other warriors, Loki must have had to undergo much troubles because he was never like us. Better suited at magic and the gentler arts – the more cunning arts – at words and slight of hand. More than that, he was a fierce fighter, nonetheless, and yet, he was never given full respect for what he attained. And later_, Thor remembered, eyes troubled as he contemplated the busy city before him. The sky of New York. _And later, much later, I understood the truth of the matter._

Your brother's heart became filled with rage when he learned the truth of his heritage, Odin had said sadly.  
Heritage? Thor had asked.  
Your brother, Thor, Odin hesitated, is the Son of Laufey, in truth – although your mother and I never saw him as anything but our son in heart.  
A Frost Giant? Thor had gasped out, in shock. Loki? This is madness, Father. Loki is –  
A Son of Odin, said his father quietly, but by birth, a son of Laufey, a small child cast aside because it was not considered worth living. That is the truth. The truth. It is this truth which drove him to madness. Odin sighed. It continues to drive him, Thor.  
Then, he is – Thor's heart rose, suddenly, he felt light-headed. He is – He found he could not finish his own sentence, it seemed to incredible, too good to be true.  
Yes, and that is why I must send you to Midgard, Thor. Odin shook his head. Your brother's newest scheme – he must be saved from it as much as Midgard.

Yes. Since Loki's imprisonment, the Winter Solstices had seemed longer without Loki at his side. In his shadow? _Perhaps_, he sighed. _Something I did not intend to cast. And so my own brother spent his winters – all the days of the years that passed so alone – so in pain. And then, there is the now._ Many Winter Solstices had passed since he had left home with Loki to aid the Avengers against new threats which had arisen – and to give aid to Loki should his younger brother desire it.

Loki, fiercely independent as usual, had disappeared almost on arrival, causing much uproar on Midgard and SHIELD, in particular. He had not appeared at any point, not even to talk about the old days.

_But perhaps, this time, with this Midgard Festival, we can forge new memories. It is a chance, brother_, Thor clenched his fists. _A chance for us to truly walk together side by side, if you will allow me._

-0-0-0-

Natasha doesn't say anything in the car for a long while. Clint has turned on some channel which seems to be spewing out nothing but the super fake Christmas crap that always flooded the radios at this time of year. Of course, Natasha believed that none of this was important in the grand scheme of things. Christmas was just another day of the year.

_People die just as easily on Christmas Day as any other day of the year_, she smiled grimly as the hills rolled by. _In two days, we'll reach Stark Tower and then it'll be too late to get out of this._ She sighed. _Damn it._

Natasha hates Christmas. The fact that Clint is obviously excited to enjoy a little bit of holiday fun makes it difficult for her to breath. Makes her memories sear just a bit more clearly than she would like. Makes her bad news just that much worse.

"Pull off the highway at the next exit," she says. "I need coffee."  
"Sure," Clint glances at her. "You seem... quiet."  
"Yeah. It's that time of year."  
"You never did like Christmas."  
"Hm."

Silence.

"That's gotta change," he smiled. "This year will be better, I promise."  
"I wouldn't bet on it."

Clint glanced at her sharply and pulled off the next exit swiftly, knowing that if she knew something she wouldn't spill it so easily. But she would. Eventually. In her own time. He found a small roadside diner and they sat in front of a frosty window and sipped coffee and snacked on two toasty bagels with melting butter. Natasha said nothing until her bagel was done. Dusting her hands off, she looked at Clint, obviously sizing up.

"I've got bad news," she said.  
"We've got a mission?" Clint frowned. "Fury just told me we don't – the bast–"  
"No. Not that." She sighed and pushed back a lock behind her ear. "Listen. Tony got this stupid idea in his head."  
"He's going to attack Doctor Doom on Christmas?"  
"No."  
"He wants a massive media party complete with Santa's Helper strippers?"  
"No."  
"He wants Stark Tower to himself and Pepper?"  
"No," Natasha rolled her eyes. "He's got this really... idiotic... idea to invite Loki in for Christmas."

Coffee sprayed everywhere. Clint found himself coughing rather wildly on his hot drink.

"WHAATTT!?"

As Clint tried to wipe up the table and himself, Natasha looked out the winter and noticed that it was looking a rather gloomy grey. Perhaps it would snow. _Snow. Cold. Wet. Annoying. Dirty. Slush._ Clint was still rambling on how Tony needed to get his head checked, how he wasn't going to play nursemaid for some sick fucker, how he was damned if he was going to let Loki sleep within a mile of himself, how he still had an arrow with Loki's name on it...

Natasha grimaced. _Yup. Christmas is hell._

-0-0-0-

Pepper calmed down after fifteen minutes of scolding, pleading and then, finally, she sat down and listened to his full story. As he had known she would. Pepper was Pepper. She was a woman who tried to hear all sides before making a judgement. Although Loki was never easy for her to accept. _Hell, he's hard for __anyone__ to accept. So, of course, she is going to initially going to protest – but she's gonna see what I mean. _

"He kinda sounds... pathetic," Pepper wrinkled her nose, as she crossed a shapely leg over another equally shapely leg.

Tony's thoughts got stuck for a moment before he tore his eyes away and focussed on her worried eyes.

"He is. But don't tell him that – he'll try to tear your throat out and then he'll start to seize up and then he'll end up more or less in a hell of a lot of a pain because he's one stubborn bastard and he's never gonna give up on his vengeance scheme. Don't forget that," he reminded her.  
"But you still want to help him," Pepper hesitated. "Why?"  
"I don't –"  
"Don't say 'I don't know' – you do. The Tony I know isn't entirely insane."  
"'Isn't entirely insane'? What's that supposed to mean? Is this a percentage thing?"  
"It is now," Pepper smiled sweetly. "But when it comes to... well, people... like Loki, you get more, careful, when I'm involved. For some reason."  
"Well," Tony wrinkled his nose. "How about I get more drunk so I feel cooler when I say something mushy?"  
"Tony." Her no-nonsense voice.  
"Fine. It's just. When he was yelling at me – when he tried to attack me –"  
"Wait! He tried to attack you?"  
"Yeah – but think of it as more like a kid flailing and less psychopathic. If that helps."  
"Tony – you – you provoked him didn't you."  
"Maybe. A bit. He's just... so fun to talk to. Until he starks attacking you. But he failed. Again. And when he staggered off, I could see it deep down."  
"See what?" Pepper asked softly, realizing that Tony seemed focussed and very tired, suddenly.  
"Me."  
"Tony."  
"No. Listen. Afghanistan. I don't talk about it. For a reason, Pepper. But – I understand, a little. How he must feel. Impotent. And I had... I had a friend and a plan and my abilities and resources being handed to me – but Loki, I realized right then and there... He has nothing."  
"He has you guys," Pepper pointed out. "Without the Avengers, I get the feeling his raison d'etre would kinda of... I don't know, not be there?"  
"True," Tony frowned. "But that still sucks shit."  
"Hm."  
"So, I wanted to see if I could get him at least a warm room and some food. For Christmas."  
"It's not going to fix anything," Pepper warned. "And everyone is going to hate it – if he even comes."  
"That's what Bruce said."  
"Well, if you don't listen to me, listen to him then. He's smart."  
"You're prettier though."  
"Thanks, Tony. Now, I feel special." Pepper paused. "So I should open the guest rooms – for Loki as well as for Jane?"  
"Yeah. If you could."  
"Of course I can," Pepper smiled. "It's Christmas. And who knows – maybe there'll be a Christmas miracle and maybe Loki will turn out all right."  
"Yeah, and maybe I can defeat Doctor Doom in my sleep."  
"That's why it's a miracle, silly."

"You're killing me, woman! Killing me!"

* * *

**Please review and tell me what you think!**


	4. Winter Blues

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Yep. So this is basically Loki angst. I think it's awesome that "Blue Christmas" can fit so well with Loki's true self and his mood. LOL. The irony.**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 4

Winter Blues

"And when the blue snowflakes start falling  
That's when those blue memories start calling  
You'll be doing alright with your Christmas of white,  
But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas."  
("Blue Christmas – sung by Elvis Presley)

Several miles away from Stark Tower, Loki continued to walk painfully on, determined to put as much distance as he could between himself and those who called themselves his prison gaurds. _His rehabilitators._ Even mentally, he spat the words out.

No matter where he went, he could feel them. Always. Their cameras. Their spies. The men who followed him every now and then. The ever looming presence of those who had so ably crushed his hopes and dreams. So, he kept walking, hoping that the Iron Man would leave him alone. Oddly enough, the Iron Man did not return for seconds of Loki-baiting as he often seemed to enjoy doing.

When he stumbled into the less welcoming end of the city which he now called home, Loki finally managed to find a small niche in the brick building he had leaned up against as he stumbled down yet another nameless alley. A nice niche behind a dumpster he could huddle in. Finally alone. The Iron Man and his taunting long gone. The noisy traffic now ebbing low as everyone returned to their nice, warm homes. Even the birds were either flying to warmer places or nestling in their nests together. Everyone returning to something.

Except him. He was alone. Left alone. With his memories.

"_Have you lost weight?"_

The words, still fresh in his mind, brought a wave of pain, rage and misery. His cold fingers curled inward, clawing at his legs now drawn up against his chest. Loki leaned forward, resting his head on his knees and wished for a moment that he could just fall into the same nothingness which had beckoned so sweetly on the edge of the Bifrost.

_Gods. I'm so hungry. _

A wind had picked up, rushing down the alley way, a perfect tunnel of freezing death. It reminded him of Jotunheim. It reminded him of his time spent on Svartalheim. It reminded him of the deep prison he had been cast into for solitary imprisonment. Two hundred years long. _Or was it three hundred? No matter. Any amount of time spent in that Norn-forsaken hole was more than enough._

That's when Loki realized that he had picked up the bad habit of talking to himself. He tried to stop himself from that. _Almost succeeded_, he chuckled to himself. _You are the God of Mischief and Chaos, Loki. It only goes to follow that you may also be a little manic._ Then, there had been another eight hundred years (_or seven hundred, but who's counting?_), spent in the tender care of Dark Elves and the more sadistic Aesir guards who were happy to fulfill Odin's orders.

The memories returned, sharp and cutting like the wind. Their hands. Their sharp metal. Their element spells. Their words. _Words hurt the most_, Loki thought. _Yes. They do. Forget about them. _

Loki twitched and hunched back as far as he could into the shallow niche, trying to avoid the cold wind and the accompanying cold memories.

"_Have you lost weight?"_

Surely the Iron Man did not pity him now? Loki shuddered._ I am pathetic. I am a snivelling idiot. I deserve this – this is punishment for my failure. I must learn. Learn to fight to the end and give no quarter. I am free of Tha- no no no don't say don't think that name – I'm free of HIM... and now I just need to finish this moronic punishment and then... I'm free of All-Father as well. Free. Free to do as I please, go where I please. _The ex-God of Mischief ground his teeth._ I cannot lose to those pathetic beasts so easily. Or hunger. Or cold. I am a god. I am Loki._

He didn't notice until five minutes later that he had started to cry.

-0-0-0-

The sun sunk behind the towers of the harsh city, but Loki did not count the hours. Could not count the hours. He would stay there, hidden – or he could try to look for a warm grating. The worst thing would be to fall into the hands of the local lawmen, grim (sometimes fat), black-clad individuals who looked perpetually angry.

_Not that anyone would be glad to see me, excepting Thor_, Loki grinned sharply to himself. _They would be fools to trust me so easily. They do not trust me easily, and yet, they remain fools. What a dichotomy. _

Yes. The lawmen. They enjoyed slamming him against the brick searching him for weapons, cursing him, saying things - always saying things which Loki could only raggedly laugh at. Sometimes, if Loki took exception to the rough treatment, he would end up handcuffed in the back of the mortal's metal vehicle. _Car_, Loki reminded himself. _That's what they call it._ On those occasions, he had ended up in a room with bars and a bunch of hungry-looking men. Except they looked like they had food in their bellies.

Loki had fought. Hard.

He didn't always win.

When he managed to pull himself out of a particularly dark memory, Loki realized that the sun had already set and he could no longer feel his feet. _It is too late_, he thought numbly, as the sky darkened. _Too late to look for a better resting place. Too late too late too late too late –_ Loki stopped his rapidly snowballing thoughts and tried to breath calmly through his nose. Keeping his mouth shut and reminded himself in a calmer frame of mind. _Too late to return. Too late for apologies. Even too late to humiliate yourself and get on your knees and beg the Metal Man – the Iron Man – for food and shelter. _

The moon rose high behind the towers of the harsh city, but Loki did not count the hours. Startling awake thanks to a sudden police siren shrieking past on the main road down the way, the ex-God of Mischief jerked awake, tense, hands shaking, muscles knotted from tension and cold, and Loki bit down hard on his lips to stifle his sharp cry. _Don't. Don't. Don't. Be quiet. They'll find you._ He sat there, trying not to fight his cramping muscles – the muscles in his legs and back. It spread throughout his body like fire and arching back, Loki rode it out, breathing – inhaling – exhaling – his breath sharp in his ears.

There was nothing in this empty world, in this witching hour, but him and his breath and the fire in his veins. He passed out.

-0-0-0-

When Loki woke, the first thing he saw was blue. A cerulean blue, deeper and more vivid than the pale sky usually seen above the large city. Perhaps he had been moved by Heimdall and Odin to another planet. Loki shut his eyes again and enjoyed the comfort. He was finally warm – no longer chilled to the bone. His feet had somehow reattached to his feet and the cramping had eased entirely. He opened his eyes.

Blue. And faint tracery of lines. Jerking awake further, Loki scrambled up, eyes wide expecting to see someone jump out and put him back into a cage. No one. Just him. An empty alleyway. Some newspaper and boxes shifting in the wind. A still full garbage bin.

He looked down again. Still blue. Trying not to panic, Loki breathed in and out and watched as his skin slowly changed back to his usual Aesir colouring. Erasing a truth he could barely accept and hated beyond belief. No one was allowed to see his Jotun form.

_Odin saw it_, Loki reminded himself. _Heimdall too, the bastard. But Thor. Never Thor. _

_Although he already knows_, another part of him pointed out. _It's just a matter of time for him to see you for the monster you are. Then he'll come to his senses and realize exactly what you are. And he will do his duty, as future King of Asgard._

_Or maybe he'll remain_, as always an idiot, Loki smiled. _And never give up._

_But he must never see._

"No. He mustn't."

Loki clenched his jaw closed and angrily, jerkily made his way down the alleyway. He needed to find a better place to sleep. Turning into his Jotun form permanently would make the winter and his imprisonment unbearable. _All-Father must have allowed for it to surface if I am close __to death._ Loki glared at his thin wrists which held invisible runes which were matched by another set running around his neck. Enchantments placed there by All-Father and a few high level mages of Svartalheim. _With these few words_, Loki thought fascinated, _my abilities, if not my true self, are restricted. Part of the agreement, I should imagine. Of course, to ensure that neither I nor the petty, weakling mortals will succeed in destroying each other. Typical Odin justice._

It didn't bear thinking on. The ex-God of Mischief moved forward, feeling better rested than he had in ages and now free of the lingering pain from yesterday's punishment. He had two goals. Food and shelter. Somewhere out there was a warm grating with his name on it.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! Hope it's enjoyable!**


	5. Well, He Deserves It!

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Thanks to all my reviewers. Anonymous and not! To "guest", a warm welcome.**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 5

Well, He Deserves It!

"Did I make you cry on Christmas day?  
Did I let you down Like every other day?  
Did I make you cry on Christmas day?  
Did I let you down On Christmas day?

The bed that isn't made, The broken window shade  
The radiator's on. I loved you all along  
But I can see it now - You always tell me how  
I could do so much better, You said it in your letter."

(""Did I Make You Cry On Christmas Day? (Well, You Deserved It!)" - sung by Sufjan Stevens)

"This is fucking insane," Clint snapped.  
"You said that already like five times," Tony glared back. "If I want a broken record, I can go down to the nearest Amity and buy a better sounding one for three bucks."  
"You're out of your mind! Tell him, 'Tash. He's out of his fucking mind. How much alcohol has he been downing?"  
"So far today, not too much." Tony continued. "But I'm going to need more if I'm going to hear this all Christmas long."  
"Banner, you can't say you're going along with this."  
"Uhh... I'd rather not get between you two, if it's all the same to you guys," Bruce edged back and glanced at Thor who looked at Barton, nonplussed.  
"Barton," Natasha's voice drew Hawkeye's attention to her. "Fury gave it the green light. Whether we like it or not, it's what we've got to do. Think of it as a way to protect New York from someone who could cause it a lot of trouble during a special time of the year."  
"It's orders, Barton," Steve interjected here, eyes sympathetic.  
"You're willing to sacrifice your Christmas holiday to watch some freaking bastard?" Clint's voice rose.  
"I'm confused," Tony interjected. "Do you or do you not want to take care of New York?"  
"Don't patronise me, dammit, Stark! You aren't doing it for New York! Thor's been getting to you, hasn't he?"

Steve blinked. Natasha rolled her eyes. Thor opened his mouth, obviously ready to protest, but Bruce laid a hand on the god's arm and drew him back. The last thing he wanted was for the Other Guy to end up killing two of his friends over someone like Loki. And Christmas.

"Puh-lease. Thor wasn't part of the initial idea. I mean, hello, who is the brains of this whole outfit? Green Rage Monster? Big and Blonde and Busty, here?"  
"Hey," Bruce grumbled. "I've got a high IQ! It's just that I also have common sense –"  
"What?" Barton stared at Tony with increasing disbelief. "By yourself? What have you been smoking? Where the hell did you get this idiotic idea from then? You said Loki, right? Loki!"  
"Yes. Yes. Loki. God of Mischief. And Chaos. And Lies. And Fire. And oh, wait... God of Nothing – because his mojo juice is all squeezed out by Odin's hoodoo voodoo." Tony waggled his fingers.  
"This isn't a joke," Clint's voice clashed with Thor's protest: "Stark, that is my brother you speak of!"

Thor and Clint glared at each other for a long moment and just as Thor's fingers twitched, Natasha's arm descended on Clint's muscled bicep and Bruce drew Thor back further. Tony sighed and scratched his head distractedly.

"Listen. I was enjoying some Loki-baiting the other day – and the guy seriously looks like he's getting to the end of his rope."  
"You've got to be kidding me," Clint deadpanned. "What are you – his doctor or therapist or something?"  
"Well someone has to help the guy's rehab along. Plus, he's kinda entertaining once you figure out how to approach him without getting caught. It's like lion taming or those people in the circus who make leopards jump through flaming hoops –"

Clint and Thor stared at Tony eyes wide, jaws hanging.

"You have a death wish?" Natasha raised her eyebrow, amusement written all of her face. "Interesting."  
"I don't," Tony rolled his eyes. "I just keep an eye on the guy for Fury. Most of the time, the LS does the work –"  
"LS?" Steve wrinkled his brow. "Do I want to know?"  
"Loki Satellite. The mofo gets his own satellite tracking. And I keep tabs," Tony explained and Steve nodded slowly. "And I noticed that the last time we talked he was – well – he's losing weight."  
"Losing weight," Clint growled. "We're here, having this conversation because some crazy ass criminal is losing weight?"  
"He's supposed to be rehabilitating," Tony said. "Not losing weight like some prison camp victim."  
"Losing weight," Steve repeated, looking a little concerned.  
"My brother is in a prison camp?" Thor asked shocked.  
"No," Bruce said. "Like a prison camp victim. Tony. Stop exaggerating. Tony says Loki's been losing weight. Apparently."  
"And he looks run down."  
"Probably because he's living on the streets," Bruce decided to show some support for his friend slash employer. "Which is always rough this time of year. You know it."  
"So we take him off the streets for Christmas," Steve shrugged. "Makes sense to me."  
"Makes – makes sense?" Clint tensed up even more. "How does this make sense? He needs to pay. How long has he been paying – what – three years? Hardly anything!"  
"Uhhh... Clint. Asgardian time runs differently than ours," Bruce explained. He glanced at Tony who shrugged and grimaced. Thor suddenly found his feet very interesting to look at. "Technically, he's been in prison for a thousand years already."  
"Wait – what?"  
"Asgardian time is not in time with Midgard," Thor finally explained. "Loki – my brother – has been in the tender mercies of Asgardian justice for a thousand years already. My father decreed at the end of his sentence that Loki would spend an additional five years on Midgard to better understand the world he had attempted to attain."  
"A thousand years." Barton frowned. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"  
"Classified," Tony said grimly. "For various reasons. Mysterious reasons."  
"Wait a second," Steve pointed a finger at the genius. "Don't tell me that you –"  
"Hey," Tony shrugged. "What you don't know, can't hurt you, Captain, uh, Awesome."  
"Fine, fine, whatever," Steve sighed, feeling more than ever that the Avenger team was spiralling out of control. "So it's classified that he spent a thousand years in jail. No wonder he's rather..." Steve paused not wanting to be uncharitable towards someone who was obviously already hit and down. "A little... unbalanced."  
"Indeed," Thor shook his head. "He was not entirely... sane when they removed him from solitary after two hundred – or was it three hundred years –"  
"Shit..."  
"You couldn't tell us this now?" Clint glared at Thor. "It would explain his behaviour a lot. Like a lot."  
"Interesting you say it like that," Tony dug around and found some wine glasses and began to hand them out with accompanying alcohol. "Thor was probably sworn to secrecy – but now that the cat's out of the bag –"

"Son of Stark has a cat?" Thor asked.  
"Never mind," Bruce sighed. "The secret is revealed – and you know what I see?"  
"I am afraid not, Son of Banner."  
"Uh. Just Bruce. Really. It's the Captain."  
"Roger's Son?"  
"Yes. I can see that Steve is going to join our 'make Loki comfy for Christmas' scheme. Which is just... great."  
"It is?"

Bruce decided that teaching Thor the intricacies of sarcasm was just going to be impossible. _Do they __have__ sarcasm on Asgard? Well, they've got Loki. They __must__ have sarcasm up there in some form or another. _

"You see," the genius billionaire paused for effect. "I think SHIELD wants him to be ostracized and marginalized. What do you get with marginalized, ex-magical god?"  
"Trouble of some form, if not magical," Natasha said simply. "A good excuse to try and kill him and remove any potential trouble for the future."  
"Exactly."  
"My brother –"  
"Thor, no offense, big man, but Loki gives everyone here the heebie-jeebies," Tony shook his finger at the blonde Thunder God. "It's possible our local Mischief Personified could have a 'Christmas Carol' epiphany. But, chances are, with him around, our Christmas is probably going to be less 'It's A Wonderful Life' and more 'Tales of the Crypt'. Title kinda says it all."  
"So why in the world do you want to bring him in for Christmas?" Clint asked bewildered.  
"Because it's the right thing to do," Steve said firmly. "Because it's Christmas."

Clint found that, looking into Steve's eyes, he could not reply to that. Somehow, the cliche didn't sound so silly coming from Captain America's lips. Natasha smiled at him and shrugged, her eyes promising back up should he need it. But not right now.

"Fine. Whatever. But if the asshole so much as looks at me the wrong way –"  
"Yes, yes, we know what will happen," Tony flapped a hand. "So, now that Phase One has been completed, we are on to Phase Two."  
"Wonderful," enthused Thor, glad that everyone was banding together to help his brother. "What is this Phase Two?"  
"Bring him in."

* * *

**Review and let me know what you think! Let me know if anyone's a bit OOC - I want to keep it as canon as possible...**


	6. Not So Wonderous Winter

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 6

Not So Wonderous Winter

"Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?  
In the land, snow is glistening  
A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight  
Walking in a winter wonderland [...]

Later on we'll conspire as we dream by the fire  
To face unafraid the plans we've laid  
Walking in a winter wonderland."

("Winter Wonderland" - sung by Bing Crosby)

When he woke up, there was no blue to greet his sight. No blue skin or darker blue ridges or the red eyes or the comfort that accompanied his Jotun form in wintertime. He woke up pale skinned, feeling more pasty than ever, eyes rimmed with black thanks to uneasy sleep and an uncomfortable chill that could never seem to subside from his Aesir form. No matter where he slept outside, Loki knew that his hunger, thirst and the ongoing pain still echoing from his years of imprisonment would disturb his sleep, robbing him of the energy he would need.

_A vicious cycle_, he sighed. _I must break out of it soon if I am to last this winter. Already I am considered a criminal at best. In my Jotun form, I would be caged as a beast and imprisoned with no hope of rescue. _

Turning his head, Loki realized that two other men had settled on the wide metal grating he had found the night before. Both stunk heavily of alcohol, but instead of approaching them, Loki ducked his head and edged carefully past them and tried to scramble away quietly. One of them seemed to be carrying a large bag and for a moment he was tempted to grab it and run – but then the man stirred as if feeling the dark vibes and energy seeping from the ex-god. Loki continued on his way wondering if he would finally get something today.

"Do not wager on it," he whispered to himself. "You'll be lucky to have another warm night tonight."

He began to walk, keeping an eye out for stores with large metal bins in the back. Sometimes food would be thrown out and he could scavenge something. It wasn't a savoury sight, or smell, but it would be worth it. After wandering around for a bit, Loki passed a shop from which, as the front door opened and then closed, wafted a strong scent of Midgardian bread. _Not so far different from Asgard_, Loki thought.

For a moment, just inhaling the scent of fresh dough and other flavourings, Loki was transported to the years when he was still young and Thor was still his adoring older brother. Both of them, always boisterous and up to no good, yet cute enough to get out of serious trouble. _How often we would go down and pilfer those small buns which the cook would pretend to forget and leave it laying out. He always knew that we would come around and raid his pantry... _

A woman emerged from the shop, the door tinkling gaily, announcing her exit. Loki's eyes fixed on the brown bag in her arms from which emerged a tempting long thin bun. He had never had that one before. If this was not today but another day – a day which was so long ago (_and yet not, Midgard time ticks by too slowly_) – he would tear it from her cold dead fingers. Literally. _The silly little bint would never even know what had happened to her. Or maybe she would. It would not matter. I would eat. And I would have magic to create my own sustenance if I did not feel in a killing mood_, Loki bit his lip, physically forcing his feet to stay still.

Squeaking at the sight of him (dark, tall, and so so so ravenously hungry, his eyes were heavy and hard and bright and desperate like a mad dog), the woman scurried to her car.

_Yes_, Loki thought, watching her hands shake as she turned the key frantically, hopped in and drove away quickly. _Run, run away, little one._ He leaned back, eyes shut and hands trapped behind him against the rough, cold brick. His shaking hands. Then, after a few moments, Loki slowly slinked passed the window, trying not to stare too hard at the delights which presented themselves, mocking him, at the window. The entire thing was brightly displayed with cheery reds and greens. Lights twinkled like stars in green foliage at the edges of the windows and within, everyone seemed to be happy and excited. Not miserable. Like Loki. _They will pay for this_, he reminded himself. _Pay dearly... And I just need to keep patient until that day comes. _

Around the corner, there was a small parking lot. A large locked metal door, which no doubt was the entrance for the supply goods. And there was the usual big, black, metal bin. Eyes darting about to make sure that no lawman or other street person or the owner of the establishment were looking, Loki hoisted himself up slowly and threw himself into the bin, crouching down, panting with the exertion. For a minute, he sat on a black bag which crinkled. It wasn't soft – more like filled with the round, easily squeezed bottles which the Midgardians enjoyed drinking from. Loki surveyed what he had found.

_Ah. There we go._ A small bag of bread. After a cursory check for mold, which he didn't really worry about since Aesir were rather immune to most Midgardian ailments (_and then there was his natural Jotun hardiness – no no no don't go there_), Loki relaxed enough to wolf down several slices of bread. Swiftly, the ex-God of Mischief liberated a few more bags of bread which he set aside for the future. After a good hour, during which he had had to endure twenty minutes listening to some vapid girl chatter to her friend on one of those metal contraptions while smoking some sort of herbal drug, Loki finally managed to escape the bin and disappear back down the alley.

Now to get another metal grate or fire. His night would be set.

-0-0-0-

Three hours later, Loki was still looking, trying to avoid everyone's eyes and not look threatening to the local populace. A tall order for someone who had been relying for far too long on threats, violence and distance to protect himself from the shadows, from HIM, from the guards. From the universe as a whole. Taking his time, trying to ignore how low the sun's rays slanted through the city, Loki kept his eyes peeled out for a location that was warm and also not so busy. Glancing about, the ex-God of Mischief realized he had travelled further than he had expected the day before. It was a part of the city new to him, and definitely more suited for his kind: the desperate, the ones living on the edge. It stunk of despair, rage and fear. Just like his dungeon. _In the end, I leave one dungeon only to come to another._

For a moment, his eyes rose to the sky – and he wondered if Heimdall was having a laugh at his expense. _Probably not_, Loki mused bitterly. _He is too righteous for that, the bastard. _

"At least you could enjoy yourself, eh, Heimdall – even if it's at my expense!" Loki railed against the grey-blue sky which did not reply back. As usual. "Then, this whole endeavour would not merely be an exercise in futility! Self-righteous bastard!"

His rage, now vented towards the silent, unresponsive grey-blue, left his body in rush, leaving him breathless and panting, voice unnaturally hoarse. Eyes closed, face tilted upward, Loki stood there, arms hanging limply at his sides, chest heaving. Cold brushed against his face and for a moment, rocking a bit on his heels, Loki savoured the odd pin-pricks on his skin. Tired, green eyes opened slowly. White temporarily blurred his sight. He raised his hand tentatively to his eyes and brought his fingers away. Nothing but water – Loki looked upward.

Snowflakes. Tiny flakes which promised even more inclement weather. _Many thanks, Heimdall_, Loki's grin flashed across his face, quick and sharp. Humourless and promising nothing but pain to the world at large.

An awkward cough broke the silence.

"Well, guv, that one's definitely an odd bird, wouldn'cha say?"  
"Takes all kind, Jacko, takes all kinds."  
"I've seen a few in my day, but that boyo is definitely cracking. You can see it – around the eyes. Just like the statues in Central Park."  
"Bobby, you think everyone's a bit nuts. Thing is, the problem is your view. You need to check yourself in, man."

Loki turned – and reality came crashing down as he realized that he had had an audience. Red flushed his skin and he would have turned and fled if he hadn't noticed what the men were carrying. Pieces of wood. _For a fire._ Pasting a warm smile on his face, Loki turned a bit more, widening his stance and relaxing his muscles as much as he could. He wondered if they knew who he was. He hoped not – but judging by the fact that the five men hadn't started beating him yet, probably not. He took it as a good sign.

"Good fellows," he said, trying to keep his fingers still. They tended to clench and unclench unconsciously when he was nervous. A tell-tale sign he never used to show before. Before the Dark Elves. Before the guards who discovered a penchant for stabbing him in unfortunate places. Before the three hundred years of darkness. Before Th- _no. Forget him. Forget – forget him._"I see you are gathering kindling for a fire."

_Keep it casual, Loki. Don't let them know how desperate you are – you aren't an animal. You are a god, if not in full possession of your powers. _

His chin rose and he met the tallest man's eyes squarely. The tall man glanced at the other closest to him. A fat, grizzled Midgardian clothed in six layers of grubby cloth and a patched leather coat.

"Yeah, if you haven't noticed, it's snowing – and the forecast says it's gonna be getting heavier as the night goes on."  
"I see." Loki inched forward, shifting the small bag now filled with bread a bit more firmly on his shoulder. "Perhaps..."  
"Hm?"

_Don't make me beg. I swear, I'll tear out your throat and feed it to the crows even if it does damage what little brain cells I have left. _

"Perhaps I may join you?" Loki added with his most winning, warm voice possible.  
"Well, what you think Jacko?" asked the tall man.  
The fat man shrugged. "Sure, whatever, man. But you have to bring your own wood, see?"  
"Of course," Loki nodded, returning the cautious smiles with a return shark-like grin.  
"Right. If you go down there," a long-haired, blanket-wearing freak waved down the alley vaguely. "There're some bookshelves with stuff that can burn. If you can bring part of a bookshelf, even better."

"We'll be up on the second floor," added the tall man. "Just ask for Paddy, OK?"

Loki nodded and, following the blanket-wearing freak's instructions, located a garbage dump with a few pieces of articles which had once belonged to a house or business. He didn't know and didn't much care. Applying a few well aimed kicks to one of the bookshelves, and calling on his inherent strength hidden within his slender build, Loki vented the rest of his anger on the wood. By the end, he had a respectable stack in his arms – and his head seemed to be clearer and emptier than it had been for a long while.

_All that time in the dark, all that time spent in prison, in Svartalheim, there was nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. Nothing. No freedom. Somehow, just battering the wood like a madman, I feel more relaxed... _He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Turning away with a shrug, Loki set his bag on the wood and went back to the dark building.

Making his way into the building and maneuvering past small encampments of others who had made the abandoned building their home, Loki found the dark, unlit stairs. Cursing quietly, Loki shuffled, banged and knocked his way upstairs and headed toward a fire at the far end, guessing the men would have already begun to prepare for the evening.

"It's Looney! Damn, he brought a ton of wood, guys!"

Loki opened his mouth to correct the arrogant mortal but then shut his mouth in defeat. Looney was safer than Loki. Looney was a strange man with hungry eyes, not a megaolomaniac monster who had tried to take over an entire realm with barbaric aliens. Looney was safer all around. Although it sounded suspiciously comedic. Before he could say anything, Loki's arms were relieved of the wood and stacked carefully with the rest. For a moment, he hung back.

"Hey, you gonna come and sit down?" said the blanket-wearing freak, patting a small brown mat which was empty beside him. "We put out some cardboard for ya to lay on if ya wanted."  
"Many thanks," Loki gracefully crossed his legs as he took his seat and leaned forward to warm his frozen hands.  
"No probs, Looney."  
"Probably shoulda introduce ourselves." The tall man said. "My name's Paddy, as you guessed. Come from New York State, so this is home, sort of."  
"Jacko," said the fat man. "Doesn't matter where I come from, but it's good ta meetcha."  
"Bobby." Bobby was a light, dark-haired man with big eyes and a nervous twitch. "I don't shake hands with strangers. Or statues either. You been to Central Park?"  
"I do not believe so," Loki replied politely, realizing that the man called Bobby was probably not too mentally stable. Caution seemed to be required.  
"Well, if you go, don't go at night."  
"I'll be sure to avoid it like the plague."  
"Ignore the idiot," the next man rolled his eyes. "Names Barker. Old friend of Paddy. We go way back, eh, Paddy?"  
"You know it," Paddy was rummaging through a bag and pulling out strange flat packages.  
"Emile," said the last one and rooted around in a plastic bag, pulling out several bottles. "Nice to meet you."  
"Paddy. Jacko... Bobby... Barker and Emile." Loki nodded and reeled off the names dutifully. "I am glad to have your company this cold winter night."

Pause. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. Paddy pausing as he pulled at the edges of the flat package in his hand. Emile's fingers lax in the metal ring on top of the drink. Loki's fists clenched, unclenched and he forced them flat on his knees as he stared at the fire and tried to avoid their gaze.

"Got a name, dude?" asked Jacko carefully.  
"Looney is fine."  
"That's just in fun," Paddy smiled. "Nicknames, ya know. That's sure as hell can't be your real name."  
"No," Loki agreed reluctantly. "But it suits me fine."  
"Sure, Looney," Jacko shrugged. "As long as you cause no trouble for us, I'm sure we can all get along just fine, right boys?"

Everyone relaxed a bit and Bobby began to laugh a little. Loki's fingers curled a little and he struggled to keep his surprise off his face.

"Everyone has a past," Paddy explained, returning his attention to the package. It finally opened revealing something square and pink-brown. "We're all running from something, Looney."  
"Comforting," Loki said briefly. "But I mean to bring you no trouble. That would be poor thanks for such... hospitality."  
"We're not even started yet," Jacko said. "I think we can squeeze, Looney in, right, Pad?"  
"Yeah. I think so. Although there wasn't enough bread to begin with –"  
"Bread?" Loki brightened and pulled his bag forward, rooted and brought out the largest loaf he had saved. "It is but a day old by your time – I mean – that is –" Loki stuttered, worried that the others would start asking questions again.

Jacko lept forward.

"Score!"

Loki jumped and nearly dropped the bread into the fire, but Jacko's hands shot out, rescuing them and delivering the slices to Paddy. Soon, Loki was handed his first solid meal since arriving on Midgard five months earlier – a tomato and chicken breast sandwich with beer. Blinking rapidly, trying desperately to keep his tears at bay, Loki savoured the small meal, eating as slowly as he could, making it last. The night ended with the men sharing stories about others who had lived in the buildings. About their plans for the morrow. About why all the shops seemed to be decorated with garlands and lights. Loki withheld his opinions on the matter. _Christmas_, he thought, _sounds like something Thor would enjoy. Something utterly alien to me. Still, these men seem to understand in a way. And they shared their board with me, never pushing me for pieces of myself I cannot afford to give... _

That night, curled up by the fire on his flat, hard bed, his hunger eased just a little, Loki fell asleep. If not happy, at least, for a few seconds, able to experience something he had not felt in a long time – gratitude and contentment.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! Loki living on the street is a bit trez angsty - but so fun to write!**


	7. Without You: Part 1

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Guest Review Replies

Reader: I'm glad the OCs weren't too painful they'll only last for a short while longer. Really, they are merely foils to show with greater detail Loki's current state. Which is where all OCs should be - upholding the main characters. Frankly Mary Sues make me feel ill. Hope that doesn't offend you... But it's true... I hope this story continues to be awesome for you!

**THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! You guys are awesome! This chapter is a bit of a continuation of Chapter 5 and a bit of a replay of Chapter 6. Hope that's OK. Soon we'll have Loki coming in to Stark Towers proper... (around Chapter 10) and then Christmas madness will begin. Sort of. :) Hope you guys are enjoying yourselves! It's snowing in Xi'an! So pumped!**

**ALSO! CHAPTERS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL AND SUPER LONG! I'M SORRY! MORE TALKING! I had planned for more action, but the Avenger's got out of control! (points at Tony) It's his fault!  
**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 7

Without You: Part 1

"Oh, the presents wrapped, and 'Jingle Bells' on the radio  
I'm turning down the street, there's no place I'd rather go  
Every holiday, oh, you feel the same  
Except for the ones when I'm with you."

("Christmas Without You" - sung by One Republic)

Ice skating. Ice skating in Central Park. Or snowboarding – somewhere in the Rockies, maybe. Browsing wines at the local brewery down the way, which was small, cozy and smelled promisingly of high-quality cheer in a bottle. Whipping up hot chocolate with marshmallows. Sampling Christmas cookies. Relaxing before a fireplace with Christmas music playing in the background. Watching "It's A Wonderful Life". Hell, he'd even take Christmas shopping over this.

This being a faux, not so faux mission planning session for Operation Bring Homeless Loki In For Christmas, as dubbed by Tony. Thor called it Bring Little Brother Home and Clint mentally considered it Operation Make My Christmas Shitty. To make things worse (if that was possible), Tony was going all out.

Commandeering his largest boardroom (which no doubt pissed off the CEO and board, but which made the genius feel even happier), Tony had set up the whole meeting as though it was an actual mission. Which meant incredible showmanship which would have done Fury proud. Steve was forced to sit at the foot of the table, ignoring Tony's smart remark about the Waltons and being Mother for their 'happy family'. Natasha and Thor had just finished handing out the usual paper cup coffees, while Clint himself handed out small notepads with Stark Industrial pens. What for, he had no idea. Pepper had been press-ganged into setting up a mission board, which she had sadistically topped with a particularly vicious photo of Loki grinning like a maniac on one of the Chitauri skips, horned helmet and all. Getting into the spirit, Jane (their latest arrival) had found some garlands to frame the whole thing.

"It's festive," she had laughed in explanation. "He'll love hating it."

Below, Pepper's neat printing: Operation Bring Homeless Loki In For Christmas.

"OK, Santa's helpers," Tony burst in from his private office where he had had to take another not-so-happy call from his CEO. "Look lively – and I don't just mean you, Legolas. Just got Jarvis started on a LS coordinated search for Loki, which will probably only take a few seconds –"  
"Wait – he's missing?" Clint asked, voice tight with tension at the news.  
"Relax, Birdbrain. Jeez, you're paranoid. Scully," Tony turned to Natasha. "Get your Spooked Mulder under control. Yes, well, news flash, folks, Jarvis is only able to see what cameras see. LS – ditto, more or less."  
"Sorry, no, I'm not following," Steve sighed.  
"Well, no surprise there," Tony rolled his eyes. "For those of us who have not yet entered into the full spirit of the twenty-first century, Jarvis uses cameras and various other sources to track Loki. No doubt our Rudolph is holed up somewhere with no cameras, which well – is not entirely impossible for, uh, well, homeless – and if he's in a building, the LS can't keep him in its sight either. But we'll get the general area of where he last was and go from there. Besides, homeless are well, never fond of the public eye of the law, as it were –"  
"They are criminals?" asked Thor, blue eyes worried.

Jane squeezed his hand comfortingly and he gave her a quick smile before turning to look at Steve and Tony respectively. Steve just looked more worried. Tony shrugged.

"Not always," Natasha replied evenly.  
"Many are... harmless," Bruce nodded slowly, wondering how he could phrase 'but your brother, not so much' kindly.  
"Dude, your brother is the one I'm worried about," Clint bluntly stated, frowning. "Some old guy with a drug or drinking problem is no biggie –"  
"We know what you are worried about," Steve said, cutting into Clint's now overly familiar rant. "Let's focus on what we need to do, prioritize and get this thing done."  
"Thanks... Steve..." Tony swiveled in his chair, winking at Pepper in passing. "Right, as our Walking Anachronism said, eyes on the prize – so. Jarvis. Looking with the LS for recent signs of Loki. No problemo. Our ex-God of Mischief sticks out like, well, a sore thumb at the best of times. No matter where he goes. Trust me. I've been watching the guy."  
"The problem is what to do when we find him," Natasha agreed thoughtfully.  
"Taze him," smirked Clint.

Pepper began to write, trying to keep her face straight.

"Talk to him," Thor's and Steve's voices clashed.  
"Challenge him to open combat, beat the shit out of him and drag his ass back when you win."  
"Liaison with NYPD to bring him in," Jane suggested.  
"Knock him out with super strong sedatives with a long-range sedative bullet."  
"That one's not so bad," Natasha agreed. "I second that one."  
"Give Doctor Doom a call and use him to rustle Loki out."  
"Or – leave a trail of bread crumbs to Stark Tower," Tony sarcastically replied, glaring at Clint who grinned unrepentantly back. "Fine. Plan A. Pepper."

Pepper was now finished with the list, carefully crossing out 'Give Doctor Doom A Call'. That was definitely not going to be anywhere near an option.

"Plan A. Should be?"  
"Talk to him," Steve said.  
Tony paused. "Sounds overly optimistic, but sure. On to Plan B..."  
"Liaison with NYPD," Steve repeated Jane's idea. "That was a good idea, Miss Foster."  
"Thanks," she smiled back.

Thor looked at her with a bright grin as if she was the best thing since strawberry poptarts and pre-sliced bread.

"Plan B. Done. Plan C?" asked Pepper.  
"We need a Plan C?"  
"This is Loki we're talking about here," Tony said. "So... let's make Clint's idea Plan C."  
"Awesome! Uh, which one?" Clint asked. "Can I be the one to taze him?"  
"No tazing," Pepper and Jane said at the same time.

Pepper crossed out 'Taze Loki'.

"Damn it."  
"No. It's the Challenging Loki to a Duel thing. That might work. If we word it right, should bring him out – he's all over that kind of shit like Thor on poptarts. Plan D will be knocking him out via sedatives."  
"I think we should switch those," Bruce said after a moment. "The last thing I want to do is Hulk out during Christmas time. Seriously. I could ask around at the clinic and get us some stuff to give him a nice long sleep for a few hours while we move him."  
"Clinic?" Thor asked.  
"It is a place of healing, like the hospital, but smaller," Jane explained.  
"The Son of Banner works as a healer?" asked Thor. "This is strange news."  
"Well," Bruce scratched his head sheepishly. "Living in Calcutta really opens your eyes – and it was rough, but I really felt like I was doing something good there, so after awhile, I felt like I needed to do something like that here. Silly, I know. But, I looked around and found a walk-in clinic over the tracks, so to speak. They didn't mind if I came in to volunteer every now and then..."  
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," grunted Clint.  
"I think what Bruce is doing is very praiseworthy," Steve said.  
"It certainly doesn't make the Avengers look worse," Jane agreed. "I think it'd be a great idea to do charity work this season. Thor, we could hand out food at a soup kitchen!"  
"I can just see Loki getting on that right away," Clint said, sarcastically. "He'd have so much fun! Probably poison the food just for the heck of it."  
"You're kidding, right?" Tony raised an eyebrow at the archer. "Loki would be knocking people out to get to the front line and then he'd probably stab a couple old geezers to get their seconds. The son of a bitch is –" Before he could finish his great thought on Loki, the computer beeped quietly and a screen popped up. "Ah. The last sighting of the Great and Powerful Loki. Let's see what he's been up to."

It was a small square parking lot. Empty except for two cars and a large metal garbage bin. Someone tall and incredibly thin walked up to the bin, looking this way and that before pulling himself up and into the bin. If it was Loki, Tony was right. He had lost weight. The man turned his head a bit and Natasha couldn't help but frown as she recognized the familiar high cheekbones, bright green eyes and long curling black hair. It was Loki – but Loki in some kind of a concentrated form. _Hard to put your finger on it – but Tony's right. Everything's stripped away, until there's nothing left but his core. Raw and aching and miserable as hell. But then –_ she remembered his rage and his sharp gaze as he promised her pain. _He did always come across as being rather – rawly emotive. Not just anger – but a whole range of emotions which ran wild, triggered by something we can only guess at. _

"Son of a gun," Tony's fingers flew. "Reindeer Games is dumpster diving!"  
"Is this some sort of sport?" Thor asked, curiously watching his brother sit down on a black bag and open various white bags.  
"Not yet," Tony said, fingers flying so that the screen enlarged enough for everyone to have a good look-see. "Give it time though. It's just like pole dancing."  
"Pole dancing," Clint's eyebrows rose.

Natasha rolled her eyes. _Men._

"They've got teams for that sort of thing now. Everywhere," Tony replied vaguely. "China even has one. And a pole dancing competition."  
"Do we?"  
"Maybe. But you watch. It's like trampoline jumping all over again. It'll catch on. Before you know it, the Olympics will have gotten just that much sexier."

Steve grimaced as he began to catch the drift of the two men, but he kept his gaze fixed on the video. After a moment, the joking subsided as the group watched Loki, hunkered down, wolfing down what appeared to be some kind of bread.

"Maybe my plan about the breadcrumbs wouldn't be too far off," Tony said thoughtfully. Pepper raised her eyebrows at him as if to say, 'You aren't thinking about that seriously, are you?'.  
"This is going on Youtube," Clint reached for his phone.  
"Don't," said Steve and Bruce simultaneously.  
"What?" Clint sighed. "He'll never know! C'mon guys! You gotta admit it's kinda funny."

Everyone stared at him.

"Yes," Pepper said, voice strained, tearing her eyes away from Tony to frown at the archer. "Very funny."  
"Listen, I don't like the guy..." Bruce trailed off. "But I sure as hell wouldn't want to make his life more difficult than it already is."  
"What is this Youtube?" asked Thor, confused.  
"A place where you can place moving pictures on the internet to share with everyone around the world," Jane explained.  
"The Son of Barton would dare dishonour the House of Odin?" Thor's voice rose a little, as his blue eyes suddenly skewered Clint. He leaned forward and glared at the shorter man. "My brother may not be in Asgard's good graces, but he remains, as always, Odin's Son and my Brother and a Prince of that Realm."  
"Calm down, Pikachu," Tony waved a hand. "He'll do nothing of the sort."  
"Tony is right," Steve added. "We need to keep Loki's exact whereabouts classified. After all, we don't want people rioting or feeling unnecessarily paranoid. Barton, I do not think it'll serve in our best interests to add further humiliation to a man who is no doubt already angry at us for beating him the first time around. That's bullying – and you know it."

Clint nodded and subsided, looking mutinous. Tony made a mental note to secure all the footage just in case the archer couldn't resist the temptation. A part of him did want to laugh, but another part of him understood what it meant to go hungry, to be so desperate that you'd do anything – anything for something to eat. _Not that he's gotten to the very end of his rope_, Tony amended. _That'll be the day he comes crawling to us. Even then, I don't know..._

"Well," Tony said after a long pause. "He's got one food group down. Although starch isn't the most nutritious – and if you go by the Atkins diet, the sure-fire way to tummy fat. Not that Asgardians don't have god-like metabolisms –"  
"I just hope he's sensible enough to not eat old meat," Bruce shook his head. "That's just nasty – and then he'll really have to come by the clinic."

The video sped up a bit, courtesy of JARVIS, and after a few minutes a girl showed up and chatted on a phone while smoking a joint. Obviously on break. And judging by her apron all dusted with flour, she was also an employee at the Stonebridge Home Bakery.

"JARVIS, run down that address for us."  
"Coming right up, sir."  
"Loki doesn't look too pleased about the girl," Steve said after a moment. "I'd almost say... scared... but..."  
"My brother never shows fear," Thor hesitated. "Although, there are always exceptions."  
"No kidding."

Loki was frozen stiff waiting for the girl to finish, obviously not daring to make a sound. Half an hour passed by and finally she wandered off screen. Without warning, Loki burst into a flurry of activity, grabbing three bags of bread, throwing them into a small brown sack, and hopping out of the bin and scurrying away from the parking lot.

"I've picked him up again, sir, much later on."  
"Throw it up."

An alley opening up to a small backlot behind an abandoned building. Loki wandered into the screen, looking tired and even more defeated than ever. Judging by the slanting shadows, it was much later in the day.

Thor's heart sunk at the exhaustion that weighed down his brother's shoulders, forcing him to a crawl. _This isn't how it's supposed to be, brother. It doesn't have to be this way... Loki..._

"Loki..."  
"We'll find him," Jane promised Thor, squeezing his hand again. "We'll find him and bring him home."  
"Somehow, I do not think it will be that easy," Thor replied. "He has the pride of an Aesir prince and he is wounded. Still. He is my brother and I cannot let him go so easily."

The ex-God of Mischief was taking a breather, leaning against the wall. For a moment, there was no movement, but his expressive face seemed blank as though he had turned inward – and then shoving forward, his face, lifting up to the sky, twisted with sudden, explosive anger. His face was suffused with red, his eyes glittering green and wild with unshed tears and his entire body shaking with emotion and spent energies.

"What's he saying?" Natasha asked after awhile. "I can read lips usually – but one of the words threw me off there."  
"There's no audio?" Jane leaned forward.  
"Naw, there are those city cheapo vids that are only interested in basic witness standards for the courts if need be. Probably have a limited backlog too," added Tony.  
"Wait a minute – this is –" Steve began.  
"Rule Number One, Big Blue, don't ask, don't know, don't tell. JARVIS, can you give us a run down of what he's saying there?"  
"Certainly, sir," JARVIS replied. "He is saying something to the effect of 'at least you could enjoy yourself' and a 80 percent chance he calls on someone named Heimdall. Then he says, 'even if it's at my expense', then there's a pause and he adds, 'then, this whole endeavour would not merely be an exercise in futility'. End of speaking."

The Avengers plus two were silent for a few seconds. Tony, of course, was the first to react.

"Uh. Yeah. So now we know the state of his mind."  
"Not good, I'd say," Natasha shook her head. "Definitely more unbalanced than I would like."  
"Well, he always was a French Fry short of a Happy Meal in my opinion," Tony shrugged. "That whole god-complex thing you know, the whole 'kneel' thing – yes, yes, I know he's a god and all that, but come on, seriously? The only people who kneel regularly are Muslims and Catholics. OK. Bad joke. And look at what happened in the end. I had a Loki shaped imprint in my flooring for two months. Not that that wasn't exciting. Should've kept it and hung it up like Jabba the Hutt with mood lighting. You know, Bruce, I never did get around to saying thank you for that awesome stunt. Whenever I'm down, I play the security footage of that over and over again. It always cheers me up. Without fail."  
"Thanks. Same here," Bruce agreed with a small smile.

Everyone stared at him, disquieted. He shrugged.

"What can I say? I'm a passive aggressive."  
"Uh-huh," Clint nodded slowly, slowly dragging his eyes away from the usually meek scientist. "So he's off his rocker – but look, he's moving toward something – something's caught his eye. Oh damn it, he's totally going to –"  
"Let's not get too excited here," Steve said calmly. "He just might have seen something else to eat or something. Is there a way to see more from a different angle?"  
"Working on it now, Mr. Rogers," JARVIS replied smoothly.  
"Thanks, JARVIS."

Another video flickered on and blurred a little.

"He's definitely more tense than usual," Natasha pointed out. "You can see it in the shoulders, but he's trying to relax. Loki may actually have prey in sight – wait, no, look at his stance, he's changing it."  
"Glad we know we have a Sherlock in our midst," Tony eyed Natasha as the video settled. "What else do you see with those eagle eyes?"  
"Stop it," Natasha replied gently but firmly, eyes never leaving the screen. "Even you can see it, Stark."

Tony watched for a bit and then nodded. You could see that the five men were talking about Loki, judging by their obvious looks, shaking heads and pointing fingers. They were an odd collection of street folk, all of them bearing wood, small bags and/or large packs. Loki also seemed to be trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

"The homeless folk are commenting on how Mr. Odinson is obviously crazy," JARVIS began. "Mr. Odinson calls them 'good fellows' and is asking about the wood they are carrying."  
"He's going to steal from homeless people!"  
"No, he's not," several voices chimed out.  
"Bet you five dollars he will."  
"I'll take that bet," Tony replied smoothly. "Ten to one, he's going to try to con them into joining them. They don't know who he is."  
"How do you know that?" asked Clint.  
"Because they haven't started beating on him," Natasha smirked.  
"Now the homeless folk are explaining that the snow will worsen and Mr. Odinson is asking to join them."  
"You owe me five." Tony murmured. "Expecting it later, Robin Hood."  
"You can tell he's nervous about it," Natasha added, ignoring the two men.  
"I would be too," Steve shook his head. "These are all very needy folk. They may not have room for someone else."  
"Seems like they said yes," Pepper murmured, obviously fascinated by the seedy underbelly of New York. "They are very kind-hearted."

They watched as talking continued among the men and Loki.

"What wouldn't I give for popcorn right now," sighed Clint. "This is as good as the movies."  
"Better," Tony agreed. "It's reality TV like never before. The Journeys of the Homeless God. Or Roughing It: New York. Tagline would be... God of the Homeless Survival Test. Episode One: Dumpster Diving. Episode Two: Entering the Homeless Community. Episode Three..."  
"I believe Mr. Odinson has to fetch his own wood," JARVIS noted as a poncho man waved his arm.  
"Oh. Wait. He's going down the alley. Seems to be in a hurry. Can we see where he's going?"

JARVIS neatly flicked through three video cameras before settling on one which showed Loki stride in. A New Yorker was pulling some debris off a couch sitting by a huge ass garbage furniture dump when he saw Loki coming.

"Loki's going to beat on some guy for wood!" Clint was on the edge of his seat now.  
"Your thirst for violence is disturbing, friend," Thor frowned. "I do not believe my brother would hit an old man for wood. He was not raised in such an uncivilized manner."  
"And opening a portal for an alien race to attack New York is civilized?" Natasha asked coolly.  
"Perhaps you cannot understand," Thor shrugged. "It is a matter of honour."  
"Sure," she replied, disbelievingly.

Loki's back seemed tense and there was a sense of purpose about him. He didn't even seem to notice the smaller man dart away, obviously scared by Loki's presence. Tony grimaced. _We've got to do something about that posture of his_, he sighed. _He can scare the crap out of you just by glaring. Not that I'm scared. _

Approaching a bookshelf, he set down the bag and began to attack it with fervour. More than fervour, it became obvious after ten minutes that the bookshelf had definitely lost the battle against the fists and feet of the god.

"Well there you go, Clint," Tony smirked at the archer as the video focussed on Loki viciously snapping a wood piece in half. "Felony of assault against a bookshelf. That could stick. Breaking the neck of that piece of wood is, what, five years in prison? Theft of disposed property, you're looking at, hm, another year in jail –"  
"Oh, shut up," Clint replied tiredly. "I get it already. He's a harmless, homeless piece of shit."  
"That's my brother you speak of!" roared Thor, patience snapping. "Can you not see how upset he is? There is more than anger in those blows!"  
"Yeah, he's doing a real number on that thing. I'm feeling sorry for the bookshelf," Tony cheerfully agreed. "– and he's making off with a ton of it – I guess he did get into the homeless community. At least he wasn't alone last night, Thor. Think about it this way, Big Guy," he added, trying to comfort the openly distraught God of Thunder. "Loki had a warm, well, warm-ISH bed – well probably not a bed bed – but anyway, bed and bread and water – no doubt there's a clean sink in that building if they haven't turned the water off – or maybe they did – well, anyway. Bread. Fire... Company. Not the best and brightest, like yours truly, but it could be worse."  
"Many thanks, Son of Stark," Thor paused and looked at the group. "Everyone. It is just that my true brother hides beneath his rage, this I know for certain. It is true that he can hurt many, but also that in hurting many, he will hurt himself all the more."  
"You know what he's hiding?" Natasha asked.

Thor paused and then said slowly, "Perhaps that's another tale for another time."  
"Maybe Loki will tell us," Jane suggested. "When he's relaxed a bit more and feels less... hunted."  
"Maybe." But even Thor looked doubtful.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! I'm having a blast writing this - seriously... I hope you are having a blast reading it!**


	8. Without You: Part 2

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Reply to Guests:

Reader: Thanks for the encouragement again! I'm glad you feel like my writing is top-notch. It's super encouraging and gives me hope that my future super serious Loki multi-chapter fic won't be an absolute disaster. LOL!

**So... I don't have a beta... ;;; So if you find any glaring errors, please let me know. Also, heads up. My Christmas this year is actually going to be rather low-key on a personal level, so expect updates right through the Christmas week. I hate parties and large group gatherings. I hate being overtly social. I return home and de-stress by writing. Which is lucky for yourselves and yours truly.**

**Hopefully you enjoy this new installment of angst and well - THOR/LOKI BROTHERLINESS! (not slash tho...)**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 8

Without You: Part 2

"I missed Thanksgiving, I missed a birthday or two  
I didn't make St. Valentines, but I was thinking of you  
Only one thing in the world, that I couldn't do  
There's only one thing that kills me, Christmas without you"  
("Christmas Without You" - sung by One Republic)

The rest of the video was more or less uninteresting, having no Loki in it. Men trickled in and out, one by one or in groups. At Tony's command, JARVIS sped up the film even faster and showed the Avengers the most updated video which showed Loki leaving the abandoned building in the company of a tall man and a fat one. Where they were headed he wasn't a hundred percent certain of – but his educated guess based on the last camera they were seen on was very close to a small community centre, a YMCA and a soup kitchen. Swiftly, Steve divided the group into three. Clint and himself would go to the community centre. Bruce and Natasha would visit the YMCA. Tony and Thor would pop into the soup kitchen. If luck was on their side, Loki would be stashed away safely in Stark Tower by nightfall.

-0-0-0-

Steve had decided that going in 'icognito' was wisest. With that decree, Thor had very, very, very reluctantly set his hammer in his room. Clint and Natasha had to undergo a weapon's check and even Tony's packable Ironman suit was left behind.

"It's to make him feel more comfortable," Steve had reasoned quietly and firmly. "He's desperate, yes. Angry, even more so. And no doubt, he's more scared than he's letting on – which will make him twice as defensive if we show up in uniform. Consider this whole operation as being like removing a coon from under your front porch." Pause. "Forget I said that."  
"No, no, no, Cap," Tony gave their leader a shit-eating grin. "Keep it up. The analogy is interesting to say the least – a little out-dated, but with a PPT, we could eventually get Thor to get it too. And hey, Loki might even like being equated to a rabid raccoon."  
"I didn't say he was rabid, Tony."  
"No. I know. But aren't most coons rabid – and as Murphy's Law dictates, bound to be under your front porch? I'm just saying."  
"You've obviously not had a coon trapped in your house anywhere," Steve folded his arms.  
"Do squirrels count? 'Cause those bastards do a lot of damage to my venting – OK, OK. Off topic. Back to Rabid Raccoon Loki under our Front Porch. Kid's gloves. We get it."  
"And keeping a lower profile in that community wouldn't be a bad idea either," Natasha had to add. "We don't want to attract a crowd. Things could get nasty if it looks like we're ganging up on him, fully armed."  
"We want to look like the good guys in this," Clint sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying stuff like this. We ARE the good guys!"

Riding the elevator down, feeling like time was passing by too slowly (particularly for those like Tony and Thor who could have arrived within ten minutes), the Avengers found that the silence was too heavy to lift. Especially since their usual cheery member, Thor, seemed to have gone away somewhere inside his head. Obviously remembering something. For once, the usually frank, open and exuberant superhero seemed far away, closed off and apathetic.

"I feel naked," Tony said. "Undressed. I don't know. If this was a matter of making Loki feel comfortable, I should've worn a toga and thong."  
Clint snorted. "Are you sure that wouldn't make him feel, I don't know, even more uncomfortable? I would be."  
"It might give off the wrong vibes, Tony," Natasha smiled a little. "I don't think they do toga parties in Asgard either."  
"You don't know that. For all we know, Asgard is one huge sorority with a party that goes on and on and never ends – or that Loki and Thor had to go to some kind of university and got drunk and had hot babes hanging off their arms and –"  
"Toga parties?" Steve finally managed to ask. "Do I want to know?"  
"No," Clint and Natasha chimed in overruling Tony's triumphant, "Yes!"  
"Thor, your brother and you, uh, go to parties and dances much?" Steve asked, trying to cheer up the blonde Thunder God.

Thor stared at Steve for a long moment before nodding. "Yes, we did." He smiled sadly. "But they rarely ended well for Loki."

Uncomfortable pause as everyone tried to imagine what could have happened at an Asgard party that would be so traumatizing.

_Probably couldn't hold his liquor_, Clint snorted. _Or he didn't like drinking and had to sit surrounded by drunks. Which could suck. Or he did get drunk and made an ass of himself. Boohoo. _

The elevator dinged and the grey, well-shined steel doors slid back.

"Well, that wasn't... awkward... at all," Tony mumbled. "Steve, Steve! Can I switch partners?"  
"No," Steve blithely replied. "I'm relying on your inappropriate sense of humour to get Thor cheered up. Have fun!"

Tony sighed, led Thor out to a waiting, less flashy car, and hopped in. Thor followed and sat in the front seat. The Ironman wondered what his teammate was thinking about. Whatever it was, couldn't be good.

-0-0-0-

He was running through the snow calling out his brother's name. The dark, thick pine trees whispered in the wind, creaking and shifting gently. Snow fell – and clumping too heavily on the ends of the thin branches, sagged and fell with soft thumps. _How long had he been out in the woods?_ Thor wondered. _He's going to die of cold! Mother and Father will kill me! I'm not in a familiar part of the woods either_, he sighed. _I know there are some caves up ahead – perhaps I should check there..._

But Loki was in none of the caves and Thor calling Loki's name down the dark unending tunnels had a feeling that he had never even come here. There would be marks in the snow. Father and the gamekeepers had taught him about that. About the feet of animals. About following them. Tracking them. How to hold a bow and arrow stiffly. How to aim and shoot and compensate for wind and weather. He had learned it well. Quickly.

"The boy's a natural," Odin had smiled easily. Paused and eyed his younger son. "And of course, Loki."

The dark-haired boy had never left Thor's side. Although he was slighter, smaller and his fingers not so used to the rough cord of the bow (they had begun to bleed after half an hour), Loki had refused to back down from the opportunity to show his father that he too could do everything Thor did. And even better.

_He knows better than to go out like this_, Thor sighed. _What was he thinking?_ But another part of him knew why. Sif had said something cruel, still angry about her hair, no doubt. And Fandral and Volstagg had eagerly joined in, always enjoying teasing the thin-skinned Prince. Rough, tough and gruff, his friends had been raised in the traditional paths of the warrior and had no understanding what lay underneath Loki's mischief, Loki's barbs and witticisms.

When Thor found Loki sheltered underneath a particularly large tree, he knew that only he had this privilege and responsibility. He was the eldest. This was his duty – to care for his little brother. To comfort him. To say nothing, but sit beside the slight figure and slide his arms around the younger Prince. To ignore the silent, miserable tears. To say something useless. To make Loki laugh at him in scorn, allowing his young brother to once again carry his living armour (words and wit and other nonsense which sometimes went astray but was never malicioiusly meant – never maliciously meant) back to the festival party.

_It appears to be happening all over again_, Thor sighed, watching the unfamiliar buildings, people and streets pass by. _I'm going out again to find my little brother... Loki... But this isn't a matter of drunken foolishness and ill-spoken words. This self-imposed isolation is made all the more sharply felt by the height from which he has fallen._

_What can I say to you, Loki? My tongue is as heavy and unwieldy as Mjolnir itself. It is you who has the silvertongue... What would you have me say?_

"I had a look at the intel you brought from Odin – the stuff on the scroll, which by the way is, like, awesomely old-school, I've gotta say. The parchment was a great touch. And the seals. They have wax in Asgard? Which means they have bees and flowers..."

Thor stared at Tony blankly for a second before smiling slowly and turning to look out his window again.

"I have lived with the God of Mischief for thousands of years beyond your reckoning," Thor said, finally. "I know an expedition of words when I see one so blatant. Loki had longer years of practice, though. What is the question you would ask of me?"  
"I saw the report on Loki's... uh... incarceration. He was in the palace dungeons, then Svartalheim, then solitary confinement. Is it normal – the prison transferring and all that? I mean, Loki's a mean son of a bitch – and powerful. Yes. There. I admitted it. Don't tell him I said it though. I'll kill you with JARVIS in my sleep. He's what we'd call a high-profile criminal. Hell, on Earth, he's probably in his own category. On par with Hitler but not quite." Pause. "OK. Hitler is a bit strong. I take Hitler back."  
"You mean to inquire on his treatment and why we would move someone so dangerous so many times," Thor said slowly, blue eyes suddenly intent on Tony's profile. Tony glanced quickly back at the Thunder God before returning his eyes to the road before him.  
"Sorta. Just 'cause, all joking aside, Loki does sound a little more... unbalanced than usual – and that's saying a lot considering we're talking about someone who isn't afraid to unlease the Hulk in a helicarrier or open a portal in New York –"  
"My father, Odin, was displeased to discover that after three hundred years, Loki had come under the hand of some bitter guards who took advantage of an... opportunity to repay my brother for various misdeeds he had committed in his youth." Thor shrugged and sighed. "My little brother has the capacity to anger others only too easily. Confined physically and with nothing on hand to do, his mind needed more stimulation, intensified by his surroundings... He would no doubt do anything to stave off the boredom. Even if it meant bringing torture down upon his head."  
"So your father, um, Odin, he moved Loki to Svartalheim. Which, if I remember correctly, isn't much of a resort either. Not that Loki deserved to go to a resort."  
"Yes, a dangerous realm – and Loki's life did not improve. Some would argue that, at the hands of magic users, things got worse. But the Council was unmoved. In the end, All-Father decided that it would be best to leave him to his own devices. So for the last, two or three hundred years, he was placed in solitary. With only his memories and thoughts – in a deep pit down which, I heard tell, they tossed in the occasional –"  
"This story doesn't seem to get better with the telling," Tony glanced at Thor. "But, I've gotta give you kudos for just throwing words like 'two or three hundred years' around like it's nothing. So, what do you think – how are you going to go about it? Talking with your brother, I mean?"  
"I do not know, Son of Stark. I do not know."  
"Great." Tony fixed a glare on the traffic around him. "Just great."

-0-0-0-

The soup kitchen was two blocks away from the YMCA and Community Centre. Passing the other two SHIELD vehicles, Tony kept driving down the small road until JARVIS alerted him that they had arrived. He rather hoped Thor and he could be the first ones to find the ex-God of Mischief. Clint and Natasha were far from even being tolerant of Loki. And Tony had a feeling that the Hulk really did like to play with Loki. It wasn't just the hole in his tiling. Sometimes, there was that glint in Bruce's eye. _Hm._

His wish was granted easily enough when they parked the car in the small parking lot and walked around the side of the building to the entrance. Loki was standing outside the scuffed, grim-looking, grey-black building alone, gripping a bowl of soup in one hand and a spoon in the other. It was empty and at the sight of the two Avengers, Loki hastily set the bowl down and stepped back, hands raised a little. Vivid green, unhappy eyes fixed on Thor's blue eyes. Yes, definitely not glad to see them.

Looking his brother up and down quickly, Thor's shoulders sagged. Without warning, he strode forward to pull his brother into a quick embrace. The God of Thunder's hands seemed so big compared to Loki's thin shoulders. When he squeezed them, Thor couldn't help but wince at the feeling of hard bone under the light muscle. Nothing else.

Tony, stepping back, didn't know what was worse – the fact Loki looked like he'd blow away with the wind or how Loki hadn't even tried to run. There was something nervous and tense about Loki's whole posture which was dampened by extreme exhaustion. Not just physical, mental too.

Thor did not draw back fully, refusing to let go of his younger brother, who briefly tried to pull away and failed. Instead, Loki raised his sharp chin and glared at Thor.

"What are you doing here? Come to laugh as well? Do you not have your woman to think of – or will I always remain better sport?"

At first, Thor didn't respond, but shifted his left hand up to grip his brother's neck as though Loki were nothing but a small child. The fallen god flinched but didn't move, his mouth now a thin line and his eyes burning with cold green fire.

"I'm not here to do anything."  
"Really." Loki's eyes turned away, a painful smile on his face, presenting a sharp profile to his brother. "Really? It is amusing – but that I cannot believe. Let me guess. That pitiful group of humans you call friends wish me to turn myself in – perhaps they've built another cage for the – for the likes of me." He turned then, face set as stone, eyes glimmering. "Well, I have news for you, _brother_. I may not – may not be –" He couldn't say it, but his face crinkled with fear and loathing as he added, "I will die – do you hear me? - DIE before I return there."  
"I would not imprison you again," Thor said. "You have spent the time required of you. This is merely but a chance at a second life, little brother. But you do not look yourself and I am concerned."  
"Hahahaha," Loki began to laugh, sharp and hoarse with no cheer. For a moment, it didn't look like he'd be able to stop and Thor pulled him closer, carding his broad fingers through the black hair. His thumb ran comforting along the sharp jawbone. "That's... that's rich coming from you. Please, leave me in peace. Let me go." Loki's hands rose as the slighter man tried to pry himself away from his brother's embrace but Thor wasn't having any of it. "Let me go, Thor! Let. Me. Go."

Loki tore away, Thor letting him go quickly. Panting, chest heaving, eyes glittering and face suffused with horror, Loki glared at the two men.

"Loki," Thor sighed. "We want to bring you home – to celebrate the winter festival with us."  
"Home? Us? We?" spat Loki. "It's Odin, isn't it? He wants to see how his pitiful little Jotun is doing, doesn't he? Wants to ensure his pathetic pawn doesn't die on him and make his grand gesture as meaningless as it truly is!"  
"Father?" Thor blinked. "No. Us. We. The Avengers. Son of Stark and Bannerson – all the others. And Jane is here, too. Truly, I think you would enjoy meeting her, since she is very much a person like yourself, brother, intelligent and very much beyond my understanding in regards to her learning. So there will be good conversation, such as you will enjoy. And there will be food, and singing, and a warm place to stay –"  
"I do not need your charity," Loki's entire frame shook with anger and outrage. "I brought this on myself. I will endure it. Alone. I will not succumb. I will become stronger and I will return – oh yes, and I will –"

A bunch of men spilled out of the hall. Tony watched with fascination as Loki's face fell blank and his body shifted, subtly altered as the muscles were forced to relaxation. He wondered if Thor felt as he did. _It's painful to see, how he's able to force it all inside until he's nothing more than a ticking psychological time bomb. _

"Looney!" A fat man strolled. "I bagged you some seconds since you didn't get back in time."  
Loki swiveled around and gave the man a small smile. "Many thanks, Jacko."  
"These friends of yours?" asked Jacko, eyeing Thor.  
"Friends?" Loki laughed lightly. "Hardly. Let us go."  
"It's Fridays," said a tall man, wearing a brown and blue jacket, hands in his pockets. "YMCA is open for free showers if you're interested."

Loki turned, gave Thor and Ironman a glare which could be easily read as 'leave me the hell alone' and walked off.

"You're just going to let him go like that?" Tony asked carefully, noticing how Thor's shoulders slumped even further. "We could skip to Plan C – or was it Plan D – right here, right now."  
"No." Thor said quietly. "Son of Rogers would not be happy if we endangered others in our battle with Loki."  
"Well. At least we tried, Big Guy. Win some, lose some."  
"We won nothing," Thor said. "He hates us. No, rather, I should say, he hates me."  
"Yes, but did you see – he cannot resist you. He doesn't know it, but he misses you. You should have held on longer."  
"I told you. I do not want to fight."  
"I wasn't talking about starting a fight," Tony turned his friend around and they walked back to the waiting car. "I was talking about the hug. The little fucker needs to break down and cry. Pepper always told me to let go. There came a day, well, I won't bore you with the details, but... sometimes you just have to break apart before you can put yourself back together again. In your hands, he never looked more brittle. Maybe that's why he's afraid of you."  
"Perhaps."  
"That or it's the fact that you could probably break his bones with your grip," Tony continued cheerfully. "He looks like you could snap him in half with your pinkie. Move over Twiggy! Obviously he needs more meat. Which is a good thing to start considering. You know, Christmas meal. Pepper won't be happy, but I'm thinking all meat. Vegetarian nightmare. A roast. Turkey. That's pretty traditional, although it takes forever. JARVIS could get it. He can get anything. Kebabs – from the shwarma shop. To die for. Shwarma would be good too. Or hey – Sushi. Or there's Korean barbeque. Now that's probably up your alley, Point Break. Or moose. You ever hunt deer? What am I thinking – you probably hunt deer in your sleep..."

* * *

**Hope this interaction between Thor and Loki is in character and not laid on too thick... But I'm the oldest of a family of ten kids (all from the same biological parents), so I understand Thor and his torn feelings.**


	9. Run, Rudolph, Run!

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO'S REVIEWING! Keep showing the Christmas love!**

I'll be updating right through the holiday, so after you have opened your presents and eaten whatever Christmas meal you enjoy, you can sit down and expect to see a new chapter regardless in your inbox!

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 9  
Run, Loki, Run!

"Out of all the reindeer you know you're the mastermind  
Run, run Rudolph, Randalph's not too far behind  
Run, run Rudolph, Santa's got to make it to town  
Randalph he can hurry, he can take the freeway down  
And away went Rudolph a whizzing like a merry-go-round [...]

Run, run Rudolph, run, run Rudolph, a running like a son-of-a-gun."  
("Run, Rudolph, Run" - sung by Bryan Adams)

Loki has a secret. A deep, dark secret. He would rather die than admit to it. To the sad, strange fact. To the Secret. To his inner self. To his true self. To the fact that he is, or rather was (for the longest time, longer than he should have allowed himself to be), a closet optimist.

It's hard being a closet optimist. It means putting on a resigned, 'of course, it had to be this way' look, when deep down inside, one is screaming, 'what in all of Helheim do you THINK YOU ARE DOING, THOR!'. It meant that when Father said that one of his sons would take the throne, Loki had, for a good part of his early childhood, actually thought it could be him. And when it had become more and more apparent that it wouldn't be him, Loki had put on a face of disappointment, but already his inner optimist was saying things like, 'Well, you never wanted it really' or 'It's smarter to be the wise advisor at your brother's side, he can wrestle with all the deadly dull, bombastic ceremonies'.

In a sick and twisted way, Loki had been an optimist right up until the end (_it was all for the good of Asgard and the glory of his not-people, for the approval of his not-father_). The end being that moment, when he searched his father's face for anything. Anything. A speck of hate. A speck of pride. A speck of sorrow. There had been only disappointment.

_"No, Loki."_

And he had let go. And somewhere, deep down inside, Loki's inner child died.

Falling into a space-time rift, getting sucked into a black hole, wandering cold worlds alone, falling into the hands of the Other and Tha – _no, we do not even THINK his name_ – That's all bound to have an effect one's optimism.

So, waking up on his small piece of cardboard, feeling not as bad as he had been feeling for the past three months, Loki knew that the Norns had to be somewhere out there, cooking up something particularly hellish for him.

He woke up to loud voices.

Jacko and Emile shook their heads at his inquiring look and Loki noticed the visitors, a group of ten or so men, were poking a stoic Paddy in the chest. Barker was standing next to him, looking paler than ever.

"Who –"

Jacko shook his head and murmured, "Bookies. Don't look this way and they'll not bother ya. That'd be Niels. He's a tough son of a bitch who'd sooner shoot your balls off if you even look at him sideways. Shit, speak of the devil, he's coming over here."

Loki froze and stared down at his hands which lay on his knees, forcing them to stay still as he glared at the floor. Three of the men were going through Barker's and Paddy's things.

"Listen, you bitches," the man called Niels cursed. "If you two are even thinking of holding back on me –"  
"We aren't," Paddy replied calmly. "The first money I get goes to you. Always."  
"What he says," Barker added nervously.  
"The hell it does," grunted Niels. "People like you would gut your granma for cold cash. And –" His eyes fell on the new member of the group. "What's his problem?"  
"Oh... that's Looney," Paddy replied easily.  
"Looney? Hm..." Niels eyes raked over the thin figure, the worn leathers, the outlandish costume and the intense stare directed at the floor. "You sayin' he's soft in the head? Paddy, Paddy – you've gotta pick better ones than this."

Loki's head jerked upwards and he glared at Niels. For a heartbeat, Niels fingers twitched and he frowned at the sharp face looking up at him, the vivid eyes which promised violence.

"Or maybe not," he said slowly. He turned thoughtfully back to contemplate Paddy and his group. "Tonight. I'll be back. You better have something by then. Let's look lively, boys."

Watching the men leave, Paddy exhaled and took a seat with a deep sigh.

"That was close. I don't know why, but he's giving us time. Looney, you should be careful. You don't want to get in the sights of that kind of man."  
"I won't," Loki promised glibly. "I will not look for trouble but I will deal with it – if it comes knocking on my door."  
"Fair enough," Paddy conceded. "You a gambling man, Looney?"  
"No."  
"Good. Keep it that way."  
"Think we have time for the routine?" asked Jacko, worried. "You gotta get some dough, dammit. Niels isn't fucking around this time."  
"Yeah, well. Can't go the whole day without something in my belly. I don't know about you boys, but I'm thinking of doing a few jobs before lunch. Say, we meet at the soup kitchen – eleven fourty-five?"  
"Sure thing."

Everyone split up, Loki drifting uncertainly after Paddy and Jacko. Paddy jerked his head in invitation, so Loki drew closer and left the building with the two, wondering what the man had meant when he mentioned 'jobs'. It turned out to be fairly simple, menial labour involving carrying wood and stone around some building site. After the shift, the men picked up a small gift in cash and shuffled out for their lunch.

That was when the day really went pear-shaped.

-0-0-0-

Watching his brother – _no, it's just Thor now, just Thor_ – and the Iron Man approach, Loki felt like all of his worst premonitions had just come true. Of all the people he would not wish to see today, Thor had to appear before him, wearing his usual sorrowful, patient look. There was no pity there, for which Loki was greatful, but there were many other things. Complicated things. He raised his hands. _I don't want to fight. Please. Not today. _

Thor drew close, his hands rose and Loki wanted to pull away and run, run, run, run – but he knew the futility of it, even as his brothers large paws closed about him and drew him closer. In his current condition of ongoing exhaustion and hunger, Loki was weaker than a kitten compared to Thor. _If it was just the Ironman, I could – I could. How low have I fallen to end up trying to delude myself? Even against the Man of Iron, I would still be able. To. Do. Nothing_, he gritted out the truth to himself. _And so, I'll always be the easy target for them to hunt down – _

"What are you doing here? Come to laugh as well? Do you not have your woman to think of – or will I always remain better sport?" He asked, raising his chin, glaring at his brother, wishing his mental powers could return so he could drill holes through the idiot's head and watch his brains melt from the pressure of his gaze. Thor's hand rose in that familiar way and for a moment, Loki's blood turned to fire and his bones to liquid and from far away he could hear his brother saying, "I'm not here to do anything."

"Really," he managed to get out with passable calm and a smile. "Really? It is amusing – but that I cannot believe. Let me guess. That pitiful group of humans you call friends wish me to turn myself in – perhaps they've built another cage for the – for the likes of me." Loki's hands curled into fists, ragged nails biting into his own flesh and drawing blood. "Well, I have news for you, _brother_. I may not – may not be –" _I may not wield the power I held before. I may not be what I was before. But, but, but – _"I will die– do you hear me? - DIE before I return there."

Thor shook his head. "I would not imprison you again. You have spent the time required of you. This is merely but a chance at a second life, little brother. But you do not look yourself and I am concerned."

It was too ludicrous. _Of course he's not here to do anything._ _I'm nothing now. I couldn't even __fight a human without being tortured in a thousand ways thanks to the spell. It would be against Aesir law to touch me since I rank no higher than a mortal. And the very mortals who should kneel in awe of me may stand by and laugh – and laugh – and why shouldn't they? I am indeed in a laughable state._

The laughter tore out of him, painfully. It had been so long since he had last laughed. And this was something cutting and sharp and painful and it was as if his very throat were bleeding. And he could not stop until his brother pulled him closer and he could catch the faint scent of wood and pine and metal. It cut through his self-ridicule as a wave of memory arose.

Although it was now long gone after five months, Loki thought he could smell the pungent aroma of horse and sweat and blood. For a moment, his brother's hand in his hair, strong fingers clasping him close, Loki was back on the battlefield, comforted after yet another near death experience. Or when his brother found him alone, trying to pull together the tatters of his pride and confidence after the Court finished taunting (_it's just teasing_, Thor said, _a little jest, Loki_) him during the revels. Those were the moments when his brother would come and make it all right. And it was Thor's fault. The one who began it all. In the end, it was up to Loki to pick up the pieces.

"That's... that's rich coming from you." He said slowly, his hands rising. "Please, leave me in peace. Let me go." He tried to pry himself away from his brother's embrace but Thor wasn't having any of it. Panic welled up. "Let me go, Thor! Let. Me. Go."

He tore away. _But no. That's not the truth. He let me go._ Panting, chest heaving, eyes glittering and face suffused with horror, Loki glared at the two men. _If they wanted, they could take me now – and I would not be able to resist. They must never know – can never guess. Never. Never. Never._

"Loki," Thor sighed, his blue eyes shining with hurt. As always. "We want to bring you home – to celebrate the winter festival with us."  
"Home? Us? We?" Loki pushed down the alarm rising within him. "It's Odin, isn't it? He wants to see how his pitiful little Jotun is doing, doesn't he? Wants to ensure his pathetic pawn doesn't die on him and make his grand gesture as meaningless as it truly is!"  
"Father?" Thor blinked.

Loki frowned, realizing that Thor was genuinely confused. _Not Father. But of course not. Never him. Not even now. _

"No. Us. We. The Avengers. Son of Stark and Bannerson – all the others. And Jane is here, too. Truly, I think you would enjoy meeting her, since she is very much a person like yourself, brother, intelligent and very much beyond my understanding in regards to her learning. So there will be good conversation, such as you will enjoy. And there will be food, and singing, and a warm place to stay –"

Listening to his brother's prattle, Loki felt like everything inside needed to come exploding outwards – as if he were on fire from within. _To be pitied by __them__! By the very ones he had planned, perhaps, perhaps, still planned, to crush beneath his feet!_

"I do not need your charity! I brought this on myself. I will endure it. Alone. I will not succumb. I will become stronger and I will return – oh yes, and I will –"

And that's when the others had come out and Loki had made his escape. _Cowardly_, he thought later as he basked under the warmth of what Jacko and Paddy had called 'showers', _but then, I am, in the end, only Loki, the lowliest of the Jotun and the most hated of the Aesir._

The shower felt amazing. It had been a long time since his skin had enjoyed such comfort and care. Before this, there was the prisons (none of them offered him a chance to be truly clean, other than the odd dunking in the frigid rivers or tossing buckets of cold or very hot water at him) and before that, conflict on Earth (no time to relax there) and before that, the Other (and the empty lands which noticed not the grimy warrior, and offered no sweet comforts) and before that, the Rainbow Bridge and before that – Loki's mind refused to dwell on that golden memory. A thousand years and then some. It was a wonder that the dirt on his skin hadn't become one with his flesh. He wanted to let the waters cascade over and over, wanted to scrub his unclean skin until it peeled off his body, wanted to rub out every memory, but Paddy gently removed the sponge from his reddened fingers and suggested in his usual quiet voice that it would be best to get going.

Loki wished that his clothes had been cleaner as he pulled on his tunic and pants and coat. He had known they were dirty before, but now they seemed twice as grimy. Perhaps this place would have a washing woman or some metal machine to do the job. Or he could take a trip to a fountain and dare the cold. _Or maybe not._

-0-0-0-

There were no jobs to be found in the afternoon which increased the tension of the group when they met again in the early evening.

"This ain't good," Bobby said. "They're gonna come after ya. After all of us, if we're unlucky."  
"I'm splitting, no offense," Emile stuttered and left.  
Loki frowned. "Can they not give you more time?"  
"Time is expensive, Looney," Paddy sighed. "You'd be surprised."  
"I see."  
"They're here," Jacko said softly, backing away. "Already..."

Bobby slipped behind the group and moved away, closer to the windows as Niels and his men came up again.

"So ya got the money?"  
"I need –"  
"I need, I need, I need..." Niels complained, swinging around and then yelling in Paddy's face. "What are you? My wife? You got the damn money or no?"  
"I've got a hundred today."  
"Got a hundred and fifty from the steelworks," Barker was pulling his cash out already.  
"You two got two fifty?" Niels said lazily, eyes glinting.  
"Three fifty," Jacko said, handing over his hundred.  
"Three fifty." Niels sniffed. "Not bad. Not bad." His eyes flitted over to Loki. "What about you? What've you got?"  
"I do not see how my earnings are of any concern of yours," Loki lifted his chin and glared back. He glanced at Paddy, wondering if the old man would be disappointed.

Paddy just looked resigned.

"If you hang in the gang," Niels stepped up to meet Loki's eyes, toe to toe. "You have to pay the dues, I'm afraid."  
"And I am afraid you are labouring under the misapprehension that I am part of this particular... group," Loki replied easily.  
"What the fuck is wrong with him?" One of the guys whispered.  
"Labouring under a mis – what?"  
"Misapprehension." Loki repeated. "I am just a passer by and will be gone by the morrow."  
"Yeah, yeah," Niels drew back a bit. "That's what I thought. You really aren't choosy, are you, Paddy. Bringing in someone – like that," he spat. "Hey, I know I'm shit droppings to some, but no one can get lower than that fucker, isn't that right, Looney? Or should I say, Loki?"

Jacko and Bobby froze at the name of Public Enemy Number Two (Doctor Doom was New York's most recent problem, which irked Loki no end). Paddy's face was blank for a moment. Loki stepped forward only to find himself faced with the business end of what he had come to recognize as a 'gun'.

"I wouldn't move if I was you."  
"I'll take the three fifty, Paddy. And Loki and everything that comes with him as well. I know a few customers who'd pay a lot to spend some... private time with the man who nearly brought the Big Apple to its knees."  
"Listen, Paddy –" Loki began. "I –"  
"Shut the fuck up!" Niels yelled. "You can't work your mojo on me!"  
"I'm sorry," Loki said, glancing swiftly at Paddy, before ducking and running for the door.

Shots rang out. Two bullets missed – one didn't, but as he expected, although it did no reflect off him as it used to, the wound had no effect on his body, which was nothing close to what he'd undergone those years in prison and his body was already dealing with the damage as he stumbled down the stairs and darted out of the building. Behind him, he could hear the rest in hot pursuit. Careening down the alleyway, darting behind boxes and bins and cans and pushing things into his pursuers' paths, Loki headed for the main street. If he planned this right, Paddy and the others would be able to get away – and he, _well, best not think about that for now._

Just as he guessed, running down the middle of the large street, pursued by a gang wasn't going to go unnoticed for long. Within minutes, law men showed up on every corner and within fifteen minutes, everyone was down on the ground, handcuffed, manhandled to their feet, pushed against the cars and roughly searched for weapons. Loki came up empty. The others weren't so lucky.

Not that the officers cared. Slammed roughly again down against the car, legs spread, wrists aching as the cuffs were tighened, Loki choked back a cry of pain, pushing down a rising wave of fear and humiliation. _Unnecessary, unnecessary_, he reminded himself. _Unnecessary emotions. Don't show them. They will use them. They will use them on you. They will use __you__ – and you will become less than nothing._ He could taste blood on his tongue. His blood. The side of his face tingled - a large scrape thanks to meeting the road a bit too roughly.

"Book'em all. Best catch this month yet," said an important looking law man, who stood around and watched the others bustle about, putting men into cars, talking to people who had witnessed the fracas – and then disappeared, bawling, "No, idiot, let the homeless guys go. Jeez, like we need more muscle in the cell than what we've got already!"

Shocked, Loki painfully twisted around, catching sight of Paddy, Barker, Jacko and Bobby being weeded out from the group and escorted beyond the line of cars and the whirling red-blue lights. _I guess getting the chance to chase a well-known villain was too much to pass up_, Loki thought bitterly. _Well, at least my plan worked out in the end. More or less._ For a moment, it seemed as if Paddy's eye caught his. The tall man gave him a nod and a sad smile before disappearing with the men.

"Wait," Loki said. Only to be slammed down again.  
"Get him in the car, Silva," the important looking law man said. "The sooner we get him behind bars for tonight, the better I'll feel."

Forced down painfully, rough fingers shoving his head under the lip of the door, Loki found himself folded into the car, hands still restrained. He sat there in the dark, wincing a little as his weight settled against his abused wrists. Thought of Paddy. Bobby. Jacko. Emile. Barker. He wondered if they were cursing him as much as the law men were. Paddy's nod and the small smile. _Or maybe not._

Looking out the window, Loki frowned.

_Does it even matter?_

* * *

**Oh ho ho ho ho! Loki does something right for the first time! And for the right reasons! Has the earth stopped turning? Kyeheheheh. But sometimes doing the right thing is far from the easiest thing...**_  
_


	10. Depths of Despair

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Reply to guest reviewers

Reader: Yes, the updates will come faster because my work is almost officially over and my 2 month long Spring Festival holiday of happiness will begin. And, of course, because socializing = stress = relieving stress by writing. I hope that the story will continue along the lines of something everyone can enjoy! Thank you for continuing to encourage! -KI

**Well. I bought the last of my gifts... Just realized I don't have enough wrapping paper. Dang it... Sigh. Getting good wrapping paper over here is really difficult. Grrr... And the Christmas cards all have Santa on them. So tacky. **

**Anyways, in other news. Writing still goes on. Finishing 1/3 of my need-to-do baking - my 2 apple pies. Tomorrow (or rather, later today) (Christmas Eve), give Oral English exams to my Chinese students, run home and bake up a sweet potatoe casserole and stuffing and then run out to help my coworker proctor an exam and then... hmmm... go to an evening appetizer meal for Christmas Eve. Gosh. So. Because I won't be at home with my lappie, I will post another chapter earlier tomorrow (or rather, later today) than I usually do.**

**LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!  
**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 10  
Depths of Despair

"And in despair I bowed my head  
There is no peace on earth I said  
For hate is strong and mocks the song  
Of peace on earth, good will to men."  
("I heard the bells on Christmas Day" - sung by Harry Belafonte

The ride in the metal vehicle, _the car_, felt too long to the ex-God of Mischief, who tried his best to block out what memories arose in his mind as he considered what lay before him. Stomach twisting unpleasantly, Loki swallowed, shut his eyes and tried to relax. Hard to do with your hands cuffed too tightly behind your back. _I am sure they are transgressing quite a few of their pathetic mortal laws to mistreat their prisoners so_, he smirked to himself bitterly. _Still, this is far, far better than the tender mercies of the One-eyed Man. _

Pulled out of the car twenty minutes later, Loki felt as though things were only go from bad to worse before there was any hope of things getting better. There was the shock of harsh cold. Then less cold. Babble as prisoners were lined up and slowly processed one by one. Loki, of course, was set apart and not allowed to talk. _Not that I have any desire to pass the time of day with these fools_, Loki glared at Niels. _If my hands were free – if there was no restriction – I would disembowel them and hang them with their guts as example to the rest of Midgard._

"OK, champ," grinned the law man assigned to him uneasily. He was middling-sized with brown, curly hair and sharp blue eyes. "Let's get your paperwork done, huh?"  
"Champion?" Loki replied uncertainly. _Was the mortal mocking him?_  
"You know, what, just forget it. Sit here."

Guiding Loki by the elbow, the man found an empty chair before an empty desk. Encouraged by the law men's more gentle nature, Loki twisted to look upward and gave the man his best 'I swear it wasn't me' look.

"If I promised not to try to escape, would you release me from these bonds?" Loki asked, shoving down another wave of homicidal rage as he pictured his pathetic self begging for mercy at the hands of a mere mortal. Here he was, once Prince of Asgard and if not loved at least feared and respected, hoping that the man would at the very least release the cuffs a bit.

_Not that I'm affected by the pain... but seeing I am still stinging from that Midgardian bullet, I would rather be free. Facing a cell of angry criminals would not be so damaging if I could at least defend myself..._

"Hahaha, you wish, buddy," the law man slapped him on the back, causing Loki to grit his teeth as his arms were jostled again, pulling at his now rather raw wrists. "Oh, but those look tight!" He leaned forward. "Here. I'll just loosen them a little." As the law man fumbled with his restraints, Loki felt the pressure ease and without intending to, he sighed a little, hoping that the law man couldn't see his relief behind the curtain of black hair which fell around his bent head.  
"Jeffrey," a sturdy, brown woman with a mass of curly black hair walked over hands on her hips. "What the hell are you doing?"  
"Just... making him... comfortable?"  
"You know who this – this guy is?"

Loki's eyes shifted over to Jeffrey's face, also curious. The man had actually showed an inkling of kindness. This was new. _Or perhaps, he is, like Thor, a romantic fool._ His tired muscles were already unknotting and his hands felt like blood and life were returning to them. _A kind fool, but a fool nonetheless._

"This – this guy is Loki," the woman sat down, jerking out some paper with lots of little square black boxes on it. She got a pen, although Loki had an idea how she would rather use the writing implement. "Loki. The supervillain who destroyed your folks' apartment in Manhattan and killed a ton of people! And brought aliens to our planet! And opened a wormhole."  
"Portal," Loki interjected stiffly.  
"Par-don?" The woman's voice rose querulously.  
"It was a portal." Loki gazed back, expression totally serious. "To be more exact. It would behoove your no doubt incredibly fallible archivists to have correct records –"  
"Don't get smart with me, mister. Are you brain damaged, Jeffrey?"  
"Hey, Letty," the law man shifted uneasily. "Sounds crazy, I know – but it's that time of year – Christmas and –"  
"It's the eleventh!" Letty protested. "Let's not all get saintly over someone who doesn't deserve when it's not even the day of!"

Loki's eyes shifted between Letty and Jeffrey, now rather intrigued. _So this Midgardian festival is a time of charity then? Of course it would be. Definitely Thor's most favourite Midgardian festival. And perfect for me if I can use this spirit of charity to attain some aid – _

Letty was now glaring at him, eyes like daggers. Jeffrey, turning away, grumbled about how people just didn't have the Christmas spirit anymore. Returning to the paperwork, Letty smirked at Loki, daring him to say anything.

_Perhaps not with this mortal though._ Loki pursed his lips and glanced around the large room. The rest of Niels' men were getting up from the desks they had sat opposite. Niels himself was nowhere to be seen. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Many of the law men instead of working on their desks were very obviously staring at Letty. And him. He stared back, eyes glittering them, daring them to say anything. None did. A wooden door with a small window at the end opened.

"Okayy... Well. For the record," Letty sighed, filling in information at the top. "Name?"  
"Loki."  
"Loooo... kiiiii... Last name?"  
"It is just Loki."  
"Loki. You can't not have a last name."

_And you can't use grammar very well, you bint_, Loki ground his teeth. _Why does it always have to go like this?_

"It is just Loki," he repeated stubbornly, settling down for long verbal sparring match.  
"Forget it, Letty," a deeper voice spoke from the back of the room. A tall, fit, grey-haired man with a steely grey stare and lined face walked up to the desk and surveyed the two. "Just fill it in however you like, otherwise we'll be here all night. Just talked with Chief Wilson and he said the, ah, well, that Loki here is famous for delaying the inevitable. Probably the type which likes to listen to themselves talk. Write something up like 'disturbing the peace'. That's vague enough – and true enough."  
"Sure, Chief."

Loki gave the man an irritated look, which intensified to hate when the law man dragged him to his feet by his elbow and hustled him to the long hall of cells. _So he is not going to even attempt to pursue any form of justice and listen to what I have to say. Just like Father. Just like the __rest__ of them. _It irked him more than he wanted to admit. _Why do I set myself up for disappointment all the time? You are not supposed be playing the fool, Loki. You are more intelligent than this..._

"Walk," said the 'Chief'. _Whatever that means._ "No dragging your feet either, buster."  
"Beg pardon," Loki said, eyes wide, trying to slow down even more. "Buster?"  
"Never mind," said the Chief, pushing Loki forward again. "What cell is this trouble-maker headed to, Carson?" _Trouble-maker. Ha._ He knew that one.  
"We've got a full house tonight." Carson flipped through his book with barely a glance at it. "At a pinch, we could throw him in the Cage." _The Cage._ Loki didn't like the sound of that.  
"What was your first option?"  
"Well, we were just going to toss him in Cell 4..."  
"That'll do him fine. We'll see how it goes."  
"Sure thing, no problemo, Chief." the man named 'Carson' shrugged.

Loki absently wondered if Carson's father made the metal machines. He had a feeling that the Chief would not be pleased should he attempt conversation with his men. Among other things, Loki was accredited with more powers of verbal manipulation than seemed possible. He never disabused them of the notion. _A bit of fear never goes amiss. Usually_, he amended as he was shoved into the cell and found himself nose to nose with Niels. With his hands still bound behind him.

Sagging back, for a moment, Loki's jaw tightened and his eyes shut as realization of what was to come set in. He hoped Niels was more violent than deviant – Loki would find out soon enough. Tiredly, his eyes rose and Loki's gaze rested tranquilly on Niels and the three goons slouching in the back looking like they were about to laugh at any moment. He chuckled to himself and turned to raise an eyebrow at the Chief who frowned back at him.

"I do not suppose I could ask for my bonds to be removed?" Loki sighed, already knowing the answer.  
"Can't risk it."  
"I do not know if your eyes are in working order," the ex-God of Mischief tried again, attempting to keep his anger down. "But there are four of them and there is only one of me. I hardly see how this is fair."  
"Life isn't fair. Suck it up, buttercup."  
"Flowers?" Loki coughed. "Please, spare me the moronic barbs. You mentioned another... cell..."  
"The Cage?" The Chief stared at him thoughtfully. "Perhaps. We'll see. Have fun. Loki."

Loki watched as the man walked away and for a moment there was nothing but silence as the Chief made his way down the hallway and out. Nothing but silence and small snickers. He didn't dare turn around, but Loki knew without a doubt that things would get very messy within the next few minutes. If the law men in this place had any sense of Midgardian justice, they would pull his abused body from the cell within five minutes.

There were a couple parts of town Loki had no desire to return to, however. That one particular station which hadn't lifted a finger. They had stood by and watched. Literally. Watched as Loki had been put through a rudimentary course in Midgardian Torture and Assault 101. _Not today, by the Norns, I will snap their necks and take the magical consequences_, Loki thought distantly as a hand clasped his shoulder and turned him around to meet a fist which connected solidly with the side of his jaw and mouth.

Lifting his head, unable to wipe away the blood which ran down his chin, Loki breathed hard through his nose, refusing to call out. Refusing to beg. His eyes promised nothing but pain and rage – and a promise for future vengeance. _If it is in my power, I will do it. I have naught to swear by but the Fates and my own strength._

Niels's eyes returned the promise. There was no need for words. The quality of the air, the tension and the responding blow to his ribs was answer enough.

-0-0-0-

"Boss."  
"What is it now, Jeffrey?"  
"Niels is, um, attacking Loki, sir."  
"What's new."  
"It's been already going for, uh, seven minutes."

Chief Riddell sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose for a bit.

"Jeffrey, what talk did we just have? Remember? Three minutes ago. Christmas is not able to justify stupidity or –"  
"But sir, this is against every policy we stand for." Jeffrey said, firmly, catching the weary Chief's eyes. The man was obviously more than ready to go home, but had to remain for his long Tuesday shift until ten o'clock at night. It inevitably made the Chief a bit more testy. Jeffrey gulped and forged on. "I don't hold much by the UN, but I know when I see something unethical. This is it. And you know it, too. Sir."  
"So, what do we do? Put him into isolation?"  
"It's empty, it'll hold him twice as safely as the other facilities we have."  
"Fine. Fine. Knock yourself out. But if he tries to take a bite out of you, I'm totally going to say I told you so. I can smell crazy on that bastard."  
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir. You won't regret it."  
"Oh, I'm regretting it. Already."

-0-0-0-

Loki came to with a start. And for a moment, all the muscles in his body seemed to tense and twist and for a moment, he wanted to scream and swear and hit something – but instead he lay there, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself down as he stared up at the row of piping on a light-brown ceiling.

_Wait._ It was the hallway. _What..._ Dazed he looked around and discovered that he was on the other side of the bars. Again. Looking up as two men locked the gate, shouting abuse back at the inmates. Jeffrey was there, eyes regretful as he pulled Loki carefully to his feet. His touch was light, but Loki felt incredibly tired and sensitive and he jerked away roughly, swaying on his feet. He wondered if Jeffrey could feel the full weight of his heavy, angry look. He thought not.

"We're putting you in isolation," Jeffrey said. "Too dangerous for you to hang out with the rest, as you know – but then, it usually always is, huh."

Isolation. _Yes. Yes. That was good. No. No. No, it wasn't._ Loki found himself being pushed forward again, passing Niels's dark, glimmering eyes which promised more violence in the future and Loki steered his thoughts away from his newest memory. Niels's feet in his side. A taunting voice as Loki curled up on the cell floor attempting to protect himself from the oncoming blows. And now, he'd be alone. _Alone yes, that is a blessing. Far away from pain and a chance to heal his broken ribs and fractured wrist. Alone._ By the Norns, he'd go mad again from the silence.

Before he knew it, they were pushing him down the stairs to another quiet hallway in the basement. To a small door that looked rarely used. To an equally small room. Empty. With nothing but a plain cot in the corner. A small slot in the door.

"Can't remove your cuffs," Jeffrey said regretfully. Paused. "But I can switch them so your hands are, um, cuffed in front."

Loki nodded and allowed the cop to stand him against the wall, unlocking one cuff, turning Loki around swiftly to reattach it to his thin, now very torn wrist. Jeffrey frowned but said nothing. There was nothing he could do. Loki could tell he wished he could do more._ The fool_, Loki thought. _The kind fool. There is nothing you can do to make this right. Nothing in this world can make this right.  
_

"Th-thank you," Loki choked out the words, feeling the gratitude burn like acid in his throat. A necessity he hated to draw on.

Jeffrey nodded stiffly. And left, the door shutting behind him with finality. Loki made his way over to the small cot and laid down, drawing his knees up to fold himself on to it. There was a short argument behind the door and it ended with a louder, "He probably needs the sleep. And he deserves it." His cries of protest went unheard and he fell silent as the smothering dark descended.

* * *

**Loki. In solitary. In the dark. Sulu/George Takei: Ohhhhh mmyyyy~ Poor Loki. He's going to need a lot of loving! As does your beloved author! Send me a shout and let me know what you think!  
**


	11. I Want You

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

To the guest reviewer: Wow. I asked for comments, and, well, um, that was one heck of a reply. OK. Where to start? OK... First, thank you for commenting, it's great to meet you and hear from you. Secondly, this is definitely a story where we see someone hurting. I don't know about you but angst is quite strong and even written in small amounts can spread into large dollops. It really does cover a lot of space, as it were, in the emotions. Particularly if it's amplified by the season around it. Thirdly, I would say that the Avengers are still "heroes", but that they can remain heroes only to a certain group of people (aka, New York/humanity). They were able to save humanity at the risk of their own lives. Alas, they failed to save Loki from himself as well. And can we blame them? Well, yes and no. They are, after all, (repeating cliche) "only human", except for Thor. And of course, Thor blames himself mercilessly anyways. HOWEVER, I do agree with you that so far, the Avengers are still showing themselves to be rather petty, stupid, heartless etc, because even though they've committed themselves to "doing charity", the charity is far from being properly motivated. So, we have this time around the "good guys" doing the right things for the wrong/muddied reasons. Which is where the humour comes in. I don't know. Call me twisted. But I find the Avenger's discussions to be rife with humour. The whole fact that they are doing something good which they hate is also tragi-comic. If I could put more tags on this story, I'd put in "angst" and "drama" because all of those fit as well. As for the 'comfort', it will come. Remember, this story is labelled Christmas Magic. It would be really bad for me as an author to label a fic that way and have nothing magical happen to Loki this season. And maybe Loki isn't the only one who changes either. I hope I am also showing through the homeless people and through Jeffrey and the police that people can have more than two emotions at the same time. It's unsatisfying and not as nice and clean as we'd like it, but I am the type who finds beauty in the complexity of everything. So, to sum it up, this story is rather torturous... it kinda gouges you a bit... the Avengers are going to have to deal with stuff, they're going to have to get to know this new Loki all over again... everyone is going to have to change in some way... and it will have to be slowly because there's nothing worse than super quick, unbelievable changes that make no sense. And Loki is no innocent either in all of this. He has been punished, but on some level, he still holds to his belief that his response to injustice was justified in all aspects (in Avengers/Thor, etc). So, he is a person who must be seen to slowly change and realize the importance of human beings with all their failures, the sacredness of life and to a certain extent accept himself and Thor. I hope I can live/write up to all of these hopes of mine... and I hope you will continue to enjoy the story in the direction it goes. :)

**Thanks to all my reviewers! Merry Christmas! This is my update, around 7 hours early or something like that. The next time, the update will be at the usual time. :)**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 11  
I Want You

"Long before the snowflakes appear,  
Without bells or mistletoe or the tinsel silver glow,  
You just look at me and, oh,  
Christmas is here."  
("All I Want For Christmas Is You" – sung by Tony Bennett)

"Well, I've got good news and bad news," Stark said, bursting into the main area where everyone was sitting about trying to look busy while waiting for Plan B to come into effect.  
"Bad news," several voices chimed together simultaneously asking for the worst of it.  
"OK, bad news. Loki is, and I quote, disturbing the peace, end quote." Stark raised his hands and gestured 'air quotes' before continuing. "From the witness statements and this video, JARVIS, pull it up – yes, you can see our dearly beloved, and not so departed Loki being chased – yep, you saw it – being chased by some Irish bookie gang down this main street and, wait, wait for it – Jarvis speed it up. Being arrested."  
"When did this happen?" Thor jumped up.  
"Is that –" Natasha pointed at the frozen video frame.  
"Yes. You can see on the edge, the homeless guys. I'm sure it's an epic tale," Stark grinned at the assassin-turned-spy. "But it gets better! I love Christmas!"  
"The good news," Clint said stoically.  
"Right. Good news. He's still there. At the precinct. In solitary. Which is interesting. I wonder if he got beat on..."  
"I'll get my kit," Bruce stood up and made a beeline for his bedroom where he had a stash of personal medical supplies for those times when he didn't have to Hulk out – and the others felt more comfortable handled by someone who cared instead of someone who was no doubt taking your blood for testing and/or experimentation (read: SHIELD).

Thor stiffened, as he remembered the first time he had seen Loki after a thousand years. It was as though his brother could no longer see him – sitting there, hands gripping each other until blood ran. And those bright green eyes, undimmed, so intensely there and yet, very much not. In another world. His own world. His own world of painful memory and accusing thoughts.

_In the end, my little brother cannot lie to himself_, Thor sighed. _This solitary cell cannot bring anything but more madness._

"This turn of events cannot be good for my little brother," Thor said, grabbing his hammer and summoning his battle armour. "I must go rescue him. At once."  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. I'll go. You'll go. Yes. You can go. But uh, we need someone else with a bit more – well, hate to say it, but it's up to you, Captain Straight Arrow. Captain," Tony eyed Steve, stressing the first word. "We're going to need you."  
"Sure," Steve nodded. "But we'll also need a release statement from SHIELD."  
"Which'll be easy, since Fury should be faxing it over now. As we speak. JARVIS! It come in yet? Get the cars. We're going to bail us a God of Mischief."

Natasha got Tony his faxed transfer permit, and silently laid a hand on Clint's shoulder, stilling him with a quiet look which said 'wait'. He sank back on the couch and moodily turned on the large TV to watch a rerun of a football game. Bruce emerged from his room carrying a thick coat and a big white box. Tony, Thor, Bruce and Steve found themselves once again in the elevator, riding down slowly. And silently. Thor was fidgeting though which made Tony even more nervous. _This is going to be tough_, he guessed. _For everyone._

-0-0-0-

"We'll wait. It's all we can do." Natasha said into the silence. "I'll go do a perimeter check."

Glaring at the TV screen, refusing to talk about it, Clint nodded and replied dully, "Have fun with that."  
"If you want to join in the gym in half an hour," she added. "I'll be down there. I'll need a spotter. Later."  
"Sure."

-0-0-0-

It pressed down on him. Like hot iron. Like blindfolds wrapped around his face until he could no longer breath and his ribs stretched with need until he felt like he would explode. Like the earth closing over him. He was buried alive – and when he screamed, he choked on the grit of soil and the living things which crawled within the ground. Like the cold nights, starless. Like an illusion he would never be able to break, hindering his sight as he stumbled among jagged rocks.

But he could hear them. Oh yes, he could hear them. Laughing and taunting as he staggered through the wilderness of tundra, rock and ice which they had released him into. He could hear their words. _Pathetic Jotun. Pitiful runt of a Frost Giant. Weakling. A poseur. Misfit. Ne'er do well. Posturing with the arts but nothing more than a fumbling trickster. False Aesir. Failure of a king. Dishonoured Prince. Abandoned._ Tumbling over and over and over like stones until battered, he could only collapse on the frozen ground beneath his feet and his voice cracked and bled as he begged for mercy.

And it came on him suddenly – the memory of the acrid tang of sweat and blood and tears which ran down his cheeks. _Pitiful. Pathetic. Cowardly. Childish._ The smell of wild wood and bitter grass and cold ice and frigid water of Svartalheim – the smell of metal and desperation and other burning alchemies conjured by the Dark Elves in their deep dungeons – and the taunting whiff of sustenance which the Aesir gaurds used to bait him with. Bargained with. _What will the Prince of Asgard be willing to do for this piece of bread and bowl of soup, I wonder? Come now, Trickster. If you do not work, you do not eat. _

Then, then he could not beg. Odin's initial sentence had included the traditional sewing of his lips and Loki knew, looking up at his gaurds that there was no word he could say (_even if he could open his mouth and speak, even then_) to assauge their hate or their thirst for blood. It was when he stopped fighting back that Odin heard the cruel rumours. And so, Svartalheim.

Svartalheim, a dark realm. Some days, he could not see the darkness thanks to the illusions cast upon him by the beings who watched over him. There were the nights he woke to starless skies, feeling as though there was only him. Only him. And the earth closed over him, sometimes, burying him alive – or the other tortures of mind and sense. The blindfolds, the hands about his throat, the hot irons pressing down. But nothing was as bad as the darkness. The darkness pressed down on him.

He could not breath. He could not scream.

-0-0-0-

"It looks in order," Letty said, disbelievingly, setting the faxed order aside. "Are you sure you guys want him? Jeffrey, maybe you want to call the Chief about this. Where's Carson and Ndina?"  
"Carson's on shift again. Ndina's on her break. Getting the donuts," Jeffrey came up. "Oh. Mr. Stark and..." Realization sunk in and his smile widened even more. "It's the Avengers. Hot damn!"  
"Glad you appreciate," Stark smiled. "But this is important and we can't hang around for your Chief. This is a question of national security."  
"National security," Letty raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was just a regular violent dispute, physical assault and stuff, Jeffrey."  
"It was," Jeffrey looked confused. "I read all the reports. Witnesses, uh," he dug around an pulled out a file. "Here, says Loki refused to come along with the bookies and basically, um..." Jeffrey petered off, looking uncomfortable. "He may have saved the lives of a few homeless people."  
"Great," Letty rolled her eyes. "Let's give him the Nobel Prize then next year."  
"Well," Steve finally spoke up, his voice firm. "What Mr. Stark is saying is that the Supreme Headquarters International Espionage Law-enforcement Division will be taking Loki Odinson –"  
"Ha! I knew the bastard had a last name!" Letty snatched the paperwork from Jeffrey and began to write something into a box on the top page. "Well, what do you expect from the God of Lies?"

Jeffrey sighed and Steve wondered a way to politely tell the woman that they needed Loki. And quickly. Now was not the time for paperwork. Thor, looking around the room, felt incredibly sad. His brother was here in the building, but that bright presence he was so used to all his life was gone thanks to the seals of Odin and Svartalheim. Loki was defenceless and there was no one who would be willing to protect him. _It is my duty now_, he frowned. _Now more than ever._

"My brother –"  
" – needs to be seen, now," Stark cut off Thor. "It would really suck for you guys to get in trouble because you gave us a hard time. Now, listen, it's Christmas time and we want to keep New York safe from any potential threats. Also, Loki needs to spend some time with his brother. You know his brother, right? Thor. Good man. Tall, brawny, not so bad looking from the left side. And hey, isn't that what Christmas is all about? Family? Second chances? What you say, uh, Letty? Jeffrey?"  
"Absolutely!"  
"Oh, what the hell," Letty caved in, trying to tell herself it was because she was actually a good person and not because Mr. Stark had such gorgeous brown eyes. Or the fact that the Avengers were there in her very presence depending on her good graces to help them help the rest of New York. "Jeffrey – I can't believe I'm saying this but –"  
"I'll go get him," Jeffrey said with a smile. He hesitated. "You may want to take him round to a hospital, though. He kinda... had a run in with another inmate or two... or four."  
"That's what I guessed," Bruce smiled softly in response. "He kinda has a talent for picking fights, doesn't he? Rather... provoking."  
"Yes, you could say that," Jeffrey shrugged. "Well, wait here. I'll bring up Mr. Scrooge for ya."

Jeffrey disappeared and five minutes passed by. Thor began to pace, which is hard for an Asgardian since their pacing tends to take up twice as much space as a normal, well, human pacer. Bruce also began to look nervous. Tony and Steve exchanged glances.

"What if he doesn't want to come?" Steve asked.  
"Tough titty said the kitty," Tony dug into his pocket and found a bag of old M&Ms instead of his phone. He opened, sniffed one he picked out from the small pouch, popped one in his mouth and chewed experimentally. "Not bad." He looked around and caught Bruce's grimace and Steve's horrified expression. "What? Waste not, want not. You should know all about that, Leave-It-To-Beaver. Want some – on second thought, maybe not. You wouldn't appreciate. And I'm feeling kinda peckish."

Letty's walkie-talkie crackled with Jeffrey's voice which seemed a little strained.

"Uh, Letty, could you send down Mr. Banner. Carson can escort him down. We've got a... situation."  
"Oh shit," Tony tried to hop over but Steve pulled both Thor and him back.  
"We aren't going anywhere," Steve said. "Not until they allow us."  
"Allow – allow us?" Tony's voice rose. "We're the fucking Avengers. If this is a security thing, we would be better off going down now."  
"Jeff, is it a security problem?" Letty asked.

A pause. Then: "Negative. But we need a doctor. And fast. Uh. Like now. Is he on his way?"

Letty turned, to find that Banner had already started across the room, face serious and drawn. A secretary who had been pretending to type things up in the corner of the room, rose and showed him to a door, which she knocked at. Within minutes, Bruce had disappeared.

"OK, OK," Tony said. "I can't go. Steve can't go. But what about Thor? Huh? Thor's family. Family have rights."  
"He's my brother," Thor pleaded, pulling out the ol' big blues. "I fear for his sanity and – and his health. Recently, his life has been filled with much trouble and Loki has been under severe duress."

Letty nodded slowly, obviously not sure what Thor was getting at.

"If I could but see him – reason with him, perhaps I could keep him calm for when Mr. Banner arrives –"

The walk-talkie crackled again. This time it was Bruce, short and sweet.

"Get Thor down here."

Thor didn't need anymore prompting and Letty threw up her hands and sat back in her seat with a deep gusty sigh.

"Well, there goes protocol. I don't know what the hell I'm gonna tell the Chief."  
"Just blame us," Tony said, following hard on Thor's heels. "Say that Tony Stark just kinda blew you off and did his own thing. It's not your fault you can't stand up to my awesomeness. Happens all the time."  
"Tony – wait – stop – you can't do that!" Steve called, clearly uncertain whether he was willing to also take part in his team's misbehaviour. Running his hand over his face, Steve contemplated the options as Tony's hand rapped on the door. "Fine. Fine. I'm coming. Wait up!"

-0-0-0-

When Thor burst into the room, he froze instantly at the familiar stench of blood. Jeffrey stood in the corner, no doubt at Bannerson's command, fidgeting, face drawn with shock and horror. Remembering that mortal's lives do not allow for them to experience the full gamut of life, the good, the bad, the ugly, the unspeakable... Thor tore his gaze away from the mortal and focused on what he did not want to see. What he had never hoped to see.

Loki, once again, driven to a place he could not follow.

Thor stepped forward, feet heavy, feeling as though he could not move fast enough to his brother's side. Without words, he spoke Loki's name and called to him, spoke comfort in their mother tongue, feeling even more inadequate than ever. His arm wound around his brother's shoulder clasping him as gently as he knew how.

Banner was slowly trying to pry Loki's red hands away from his face. There were long strips of skin under the ex-God's fingernails and red angry tracks trailing down over his eyes as though Loki had tried to claw his eyes out. Judging by the state of his eyelids, Bruce cursed quietly, _he might have been partially successful_.

"Holy Hannah," Stark's voice fell like heavy stones into the high tension and the silence punctuated only by heavy breathing and Thor's light patter. "Holy fucking hell. Banner. What the hell hap–"  
"Shut up," Bruce said softly.

Stark shut up. Steve thought he just saw the first Christmas miracle of the season, but the small joke fell from his lips when he focussed his attention on the God of Mischief now curled up on the bed, hands and face bloody – lines of red running from his eyes. Tears of blood. _He had tried to gouge out his own eyes_, Steve thought, feeling his gorge rising. Holding back his supper which was trying to revisit him, Steve felt, more than ever, that Loki needed this Christmas. _Although, Christmas isn't really what he needs. Thank God Thor is here._

"We need to get him to Stark Towers," Bruce's fingers ran lightly over the trembling hands up and around the back, trying to catalogue all of the injuries the god had sustained. He could already feel several broken ribs and Loki's wrist didn't look too good either. "This environment isn't helping him any."  
"His eyes," Stark had to say it.  
"They will heal," Thor replied quietly. "Our healing abilities are immense. Loki will mend. Already his body is healing itself."  
"Huh. So what about Odin's eye –" Stark had to ask. "I heard he's kinda like Old Man Fury, except, cooler of course and older and has a spear – what?" Tony spun to glare up at Steve who had hit him on the arm none too gently.  
"You are talking too much."  
"Stress," Tony said. "I need a drink. Now."  
"I'm going to sedate him," Bruce said after a few seconds. "I don't think he could or should walk. Thor, you're going to carry him gently. Gently out of here. Let's go."

Deftly, Bruce pulled out three needles and carefully administered the sedative into a thin arm. Eyes sharp, the quiet doctor watched as Loki's fingers began to relax and the tension in the shoulders disappeared. Loki's breathing evened out. Thor let out a breath.

"I wasn't sure, so I kinda dosed him heavily," Bruce shook his head. "Not sure if his Aesir blood will make him immune or not. Or if he'll even sleep through the night. But he needs rest. If it is as you say, and he'll heal on his own, then all he needs is peace and quiet. So that means no Tony. No Clint. Or Natasha. Only people who can be quiet and mature. And non-threatening."  
"Hey! I resent that statement! Don't group me with Clint!"  
"I will carry him," Thor nodded, his strong arm surrounding his brother's slight shoulders and under his knees, lifting him only too easily. "He is much too light, Son of Banner. As soon as may be, we must find sustenance for his body."  
"All in good time, buddy."  
"Thanks, Jeffrey," Steve turned to the cop who still stood there, arms limp at his sides. "If you don't mind, you could keep this under wraps for a while? I'll have a SHIELD agent come round and debrief you, if that's OK?"  
"Sure..." Jeffrey's eyes followed Thor out the door followed by Banner who was trying to drape a warm woolen blanket around the hunched figure of Loki. Stark trailed after, looking more worried than usual. "I'm sorry. I blanked out there – I just... I've..."  
"You've never seen that kind of thing before," Steve nodded. "It's OK. Loki's in a – well, a very hard place right now. We just want to help. You understand."  
"Yeah." Jeffrey followed Steve out and locked the door again, uncertain if he'd ever be able to enter the room again without remembering the silence, the desperation and the smell of blood. "I guess, I just saw him as one way – the prick who messed up my folk's life. I tried to be kind to him, because of the season you know. In the end, that wasn't enough, was it? Deep down, I didn't really mean my kindness. But now, isn't it funny, I do."  
"Retroactive kindness," Steve murmured with a smile. "You did the right thing even though your heart wasn't in it. That's OK. We all have those moments. some would say that the most important thing is what you do in a moment of crisis. And you did good, kid. We'll be keeping in touch."

With that the Avengers left the police station with what they had come for, and yet not. With that the Avengers returned home, but somehow, none of them felt like they had won.

* * *

**LOKIIIIII! NOOOOOOOOOO! But you're safe now. Sort of.**


	12. Please, Come Home

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Thanks to my reviewers! Hope your Christmases were awesome!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 12  
Please, Come Home

"Bells will be ringing this sad sad news  
Oh what a Christmas to have the blues  
My baby's gone I have no friends  
To wish me greetings once again  
Choirs will be singing Silent Night  
Christmas carols by candle light  
Please come home for Christmas"

("Please Come Home For Christmas" - sung by The Eagles)

Two days later, Loki woke up, physically better. _Mentally and emotionally speaking_, Tony thought as he stared at the green eyes which were slowly opening and focusing on the ceiling of the new room they had allotted to Loki. _He's probably going to be so fucked up for the unforeseeable future. And who can blame him? I'd totally be, if I was honest with myself. Hell, after the stint in Afghanistan, I was enough of a mess and that was only for a few months._

"Next time you get booked by the police," Tony said, keeping his tone even as Loki stiffened at the sight of the genius Avenger sitting by his bed, watching him. "Insist on a phone call and give me a shout. You do realize that you can get a phone call, right? Or maybe not. Maybe in Asgard they don't do justice the way we do it. Oh wait... you ended up tortured in Asgard and hunted like a wild beast in a bad remake of the World of Warcraft under-Realm. So I guess not. Good thing I was keeping tabs on you, huh. Goodness knows what other shit you'd have been put through."

Loki stared at Tony as though the man had two heads. He probably did have two heads, in Loki's perspective. Nothing like high-powered sedatives to make a non-magical god woozy. Not that Loki looked happier. _Not in the least._ For a moment, Tony watched as the face, stripped of its masks, betrayed itself in exhaustion –_ the true face of Loki. Or is it? Does he even know what he wears? The rage. The pain. The fatigue. The despair. The self-hatred. Which one is him? Or perhaps, he is all of them. Just like the rest of us, a complicated smattering of emotions that cannot seem to order themselves. The God of Chaos..._

"Thor's asleep, just in case you're wondering. He intended to stay awake the whole time until you got up, but we kinda threatened to inject him with the same stuff we gave you. Should be around in a bit. Not that you'd want to see him of course."

Loki's hand flexed, twitched. Clenched, unclenched. The pale lips were thinned into a straight, hard line and the eyes now were gaurded, the face blank. The armour of Loki was slowly returning and for a moment, Tony felt relief.

"Don't need to thank me all at once either," Tony grinned. "Bruce was the one who did the most work. And Steve. His first aid skills are pretty stellar for a senior citizen. You'd think time would do a number on his brain cells. Think about it. Captain America. With Alzheimers. Would be kinda ironic, wouldn't it? Although the enzyme is probably keeping all of that at bay. Anyways, they were the ones who did the initial patching – although Thor says that your natural body's abilities would allow you to heal quickly."

Tony noticed how Loki's face didn't seem to have much more colour than the white pillows behind his head. His black hair, long and wild, lay tangled on the pillow and there was a roughness to the God's hands which spoke of recent hard labour. Everything about Loki screamed neglect. Not a good sign. Loki tried to sit up and after weakly struggling for a bit, fell back on the pillows behind his shoulders with a short curse.

"Yeah. Not that quickly, Rudolph. Just take it easy. You've been invited to Stark Towers for an indefinite period of time. So you can just relax. You've probably forgotten how to do that. But it's OK. Relaxing is like riding a bike, it all comes back to you pretty quickly."  
"A prisoner," Loki finally said, harshly, fixating on the invitation.

Tony handed over a bottle of water which he unscrewed. At first he reached forward to help Loki drink, but the dark-haired man would have none of it. Grabbing the bottle, with shaking hands, Loki tipped it back and let the refreshing water run over his tongue and throat. Some escaped and slid down his chin, but he drank and drank until the water was gone. For a moment, he lay there, panting, getting his breath back, enjoying the feel of water on his tongue.

"Not a prisoner," Tony corrected Loki carefully. "We brought you here, because we were really concerned."  
"You think I mean to attack New York and cause world destruction despite my current state of – of –"  
"No. Not that."  
"Then what?"  
"You've lost weight."  
Loki sighed and grimaced. "That foolishness again?"  
"Well, it bothers me."  
"I had no idea you were my physician," Loki's green gaze flitted over the man. "Nor that you were noticing what changes my body has undergone recently."  
"I'm not checking you out, dude," Tony rolled his eyes. "No homo. Plus, Pepper would kill me. No. I just... I don't want you to get snuffed out by some two-bit with a nail-studded baseball bat. You're the guy who's going to go out with a bang, right? Preferably take us with you?"  
"I do not wish to discuss it."  
"Totally understandable," Tony agreed. "But I just want you to know that I know. And that I – we – even your brother – not-brother, Thor, really do – does – well, whatever, care about you. If I said that I would rather you die from my hand and not thanks to starvation, would that make you feel much better?"  
"Loads," Loki's smile was bitter, but the tension in his shoulders was disappearing again.  
"Yeah. Figured you'd think that was the truth." There was a knock at the door and Tony rose. "Well, here's Thor. Great chatting with you. We'll do it again. Soon. Think." Tony waved his hands, widely through the air. "Imagine: Christmas dinner. What kind of meat would you like for us to get? Get back to me on that soon, OK?"

-0-0-0-

Loki didn't know how to reply to that. A first in his life. So he said nothing. Neither gratitude nor hate. _I am so tired. So, so tired._ He said nothing as he watched Tony leave, slipping past Thor, who stood for a moment at the door. A picture of indecision and worry. Annoyance spiked within the ex-God of Mischief. And for a moment, his grey world was filled with a colouring of red. The beginning of anger. It was a mere flicker, too difficult to maintain, but it amazed him that Thor could still stir him in this way.

"How are you, brother?" Thor asked, sitting down carefully on the edge of the bed. As if Loki and the bed were nothing but glass. His blue eyes gazed evenly down at Loki, finally meeting those green eyes, now dark with exhaustion.  
"I am well despite myself," Loki replied after a moment. Adding bitterly, "As you and everyone and the whole world undoubtedly know.  
"Loki."  
"Don't – don't –" Loki's fingers began to curl. He caught the blankets rucked up about his waist and pulled. He found himself short of breath. "Do not talk about it." He shut his eyes. "I do not wish to hear it. Not from you."

Silence. Loki waited for Thor to start talking again. To ignore him and trample as he had become used to in the later years of their relationship. To spout useless cliches and false promises. To give excuses and glib explanations. Or... perhaps... To lay down by him and put his arm around him and just sit and listen to the silence as he used to before. To make a joke at his own expense. To bring out a laugh from Loki. To find some frail bridge. To start anew.

"I do not know what to say," Thor finally admitted.

Loki, opening his eyes, gave his brother a sharp look. Thor's shoulders were slumped, uncharacteristically depressed, his hands lightly clasped, his elbows on his knees, blue gaze fixed on the floor. It had been a while since Loki could look at his brother. Really look and see how the thousands of years had treated his brother.

_Not much better than I in some ways_, he had to admit to himself. _He could not be with the woman he loved. I am sure he wasted his time appealing for some kind of mercy on my behalf every day. Probably retraced what he could and could not have done so, so long ago. We have all felt the press of time.  
_

"I never know what to say."  
"Then do not say anything," Loki sighed. "It is best that way."  
"You always know what to say."  
"Appearances are not always what they seem, Thor."  
"You used to call me brother."  
"That was when I believed in that lie –"  
"It is no lie."  
"We are not discussing this," Loki said sharply. "I may not be able to walk away from this bed. I may be injured, maimed, disabled or killed before I could reach the doors of this fine establishment. I may not be able to render you unconscious, but, by the Norns, if we must regurgitate these ancient matters like dogs returning to their vomit, I will discover some way I may at least temporarily render my own self unconscious. I will figure a way, br – Thor, and I will do it."  
"You just did it there," Thor couldn't help but point out Loki's slip of the tongue. "You want to say it, because you know it is true."  
"I was tired. I am capable of making mistakes. Especially when I am tired."

Thor looked up, suddenly a grin on his face.

"That must have burned to admit," he said cheekily. "The last time you admitted to making a mistake was when you accidentally dyed Father's under robe pink."  
"That was..." Loki sighed and glanced to the side with a blush. "Yes, well. A mistake. But it was my last mistake in a long time. I was just learning!"  
"Oh? So you still maintain that cutting Master Ethelwyn's saddle's girth strap was a good idea?"  
"He never caught me," Loki sniffed. "The man deserved to be humiliated after what he said about how my toes pointed."  
"True, but the entire class ended up having to clean the King's stables. By hand. You know that Fandral has never quite forgiven you that?"  
"Fandral is an ass."  
"That is true, sometimes. You can be one as well, little brother. But we had such good times together. Remember that time when you and I set snakes free in the beds of the emissaries from the south? They howled like women – both you and I had such a laugh that night."  
"We were not laughing next morning when Mother sought us out and scolded us," Loki grimaced. "Although how Mother knew it was us still eludes me."  
"Our Mother has second sight."  
"She does not use it for such trivial affairs," Loki shifted uneasily, drawing Thor's attention to how Loki's fingers nervously plucked at each other and the edge of the blanket.

_It is always the little things with Loki_, Thor thought. _Compared to him, I have all the grace of a milking cow. Still after so many years, I can see it now. _

"When it comes to you, little brother, there is nothing trivial in Mother's eyes," Thor's smile dropped away. "Speaking of mistakes, what about the Chitauri invasion?"  
"What of it?"  
"You failed to take Midgard as you planned. That could be seen as a mistake."  
"Perhaps. You did not say that even attempting such a thing was wrong."  
"You know my thoughts on the matter. Besides, I would rather you admit it."  
"I was wrong. I made a mistake. There," Loki sighed and turned away, or rather, tried to turn away, but he discovered he did not even have the strength to move onto his side. "I said it."

Watching his brother's profile, the tension which vibrated up through the thinly corded muscles up the white, pale column of throat to a tight face and the jumping corners of a too nervous mouth.

"You said it before," Thor finally said. "You do not have to say it again. Not really."  
"I do not remember saying anything of the sort."  
"When we stood on the Son of Stark's tower, before you stabbed me... I could see it in your eyes."  
"Thor," Loki replied haughtily. "Even at the best of times you could never know what I think –"  
"I knew then."  
"Hmph."  
"And you do not deny it straight away."  
"It is of no consequence either way. I still stabbed you. I might try again."

Loki shut his eyes again, this time he found it difficult to open them. Someone was entering the dim room. Thor still sat there, watching Loki carefully, considering Loki's last words. _Will he understand what it is? Will he think it through?_ At any rate, Thor did not begin speaking again. Instead, choosing to draw back. Giving Loki a rest. _Unheard of._ Loki knew that his brother never sparred mentally with another. He blundered about conversations as unknowing and as oblivious as a bilgesnipe would wallow through the outskirts of the small farming communities of Asgard. _And in a way, he is blessed with luck in that regard. He cannot tire from opening his mouth or keeping up a conversation, but then, his conversations have none of the beautiful intricacies of a natural wordsmith. _

"He is tired," the newcomer was leaning over Loki. "Still too tired for my liking. We're going to have to give him an IV. Sorry, Loki." He didn't sound apologetic at all.

Loki's eyes, opening again, widened a bit as he realized who stooped over him, blocking out the faint light, throwing a shadow over everything and his hand was reaching out, grasping Loki's wrist – and suddenly Loki was on his cot, his arm bruisingly jerked forward as the guard pulled him off the bed and onto his knees, his other hand running through Loki's hair before jerking his head back before backhanding him. _No._ He was in the metal tower. With the Green Beast. The beast's massive hands enveloped Loki's ankle and – gods, the pain came flooding back through his veins like a fire – the hard rock cracked and smashed under the force of his face, his back and shoulders hitting the floor. He flinched away, scrambling through the sheets, trying to get away - failing. The images were looming over him, unstoppable and he closed his eyes in an attempt to just stop it – just stop it for one moment – just one moment – and before his hands could reach his eyes, the black took him.

-0-0-0-

"That was shitty," Bruce gasped, leaning back and laying the syringe carefully onto the small night table beside the bed. While Thor gently lifted up his brother to set Loki back where he had lain propped up, the quiet doctor pushed forward the metal rack Tony had rustled up for him and hung up the IV bag he had brought from the clinic. With the ease of long experience, Bruce applied a tourniquet, double-checked the cannula, the bag, the line and when he was sure everything was ready, gently slid the IV into the slender forearm which Thor had eased away from Loki's chest. "Nothing but skin and bone," Bruce tutted. "You don't know about the Holocaust but another month and I think Loki could've given the victims a run for their money. It's a good thing that Tony got this idea when he did."  
"You really believe so?" Thor asked the doctor skeptically. "I do not remember you harbouring tender mercies for my brother."  
"Tender mercies, no."

A pause.

"But a thousand years is a long time. Too long. And I think, deep down, Loki is one crazy guy who is trying to make sense of his world. Something broke him. A long time ago... a short time ago. Hard to tell. Psychology's not my thing. But he needs us. He needs you. Whether he likes it or not."  
"Son of Stark said that as well."  
"Tony's remarkably astute about other people if not himself," Bruce grimaced. "He's a curious bastard and won't let things go when he gets something in his noggin. If he's saying stuff like that, it's a pretty good sign."

Thor nodded slowly as if he understood.

"Just think on it. It may seem small to you, but this thorn in Loki's mind may have come from a small seed." Bruce paused. "And don't push it. These things take time. With Loki. Well, they're going to take even longer. Don't give up hope, Thor."  
"I never have. I never will," Thor said quietly.  
"Then it's enough."

Bruce swiftly gathered up the syringe and the rest of his doctor's kit, reached the door, paused and turned to survey the room. It was lit with soft lights. Loki no longer loved the dark so the girls had dug out some extra lamps to light the room with. Thor sat in the chair now, hand holding Loki thin one, eyes trained on the quiet face still too pale and thin to be healthy. _It'll take a long time, Thor, but if you keep strong, even Loki has to cave at some point._ Bruce left the room silently.

* * *

**Bruce is going to show a bit more development later. For now, in a pinch and a crisis, he's focussing on one thing. Of course, Loki doesn't know that. Hahahaha. I'm such an evil writer...**


	13. It's Cold Outside: Part 1

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Response to Guest Reviewers:

Reader: Loki is being severely hurt... but that's what it's all about right in h/c fics. :) So fun to write! I'm getting addicted to this fandom...

**THANKS TO ALL THE REVIEWERS! PLEASE COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 13  
It's Cold Outside: Part 1

"I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside  
I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside  
This evening has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in  
So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice  
My mother will start to worry - Beautiful, what's your hurry?  
My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to the fireplace roar  
So really I'd better scurry - Beautiful, please don't hurry  
Maybe just a half a drink more - Put some records on while I pour  
Oh, baby it's cold outside"

("Baby, It's Cold Outside" - sung by Dean Martin)

Tony was a curious bastard. That is to say, although the genius had his eccentricities, it was even more well-known that Tony Stark (genius, philanthropist, billionaire, etc etc) also eschewed the curiosity of the cat. And it nearly killed him too. Several times… _How many times was it now?_ He had lost count. Pepper couldn't even know for sure because she hadn't been there from the beginning – when he was still in diapers and had a penchant for sticking forks into electric sockets.

And he didn't dare tell her half the amount of crap he was up to. Although he had a feeling she could make a good guess. Some examples popped into mind – trying to see how high he could go in his first suit. Poking (or provoking, or rather, trying to provoke) Bruce into Hulking out. Inviting an insane God of Mischief for a drink. Making fun of said insane God of Mischief…

So after his initial meeting with Loki alongside Thor, Tony's interest was piqued (to put it mildly) when Point Break hugged Reindeer Games and the latter hadn't pulled away instantly.

_What kind of relationship did those two have? What had it been like back in the day when it had just been Thor and Loki, Princes of the High and Mighty Asgard?_ As an only child, Tony had no real way to relate, relying only on what he had learned from his classmates back in school, on what Pepper and Rhodey complained about after holidays, on what he had read in books and seen in the movies. _Cheaper by the Dozen. Now there was a nightmare… _

So, there was the hug to consider. And Loki's words. Those bothered him even more. _Pitiful Jotun. Pathetic pawn. Loki at his finest._ It bugged Tony all through dinner as everyone chatted mutely about what to do with Loki the next day. (After all, it's easy to pity the Loki lying unconscious on a bed with scars running down his face. Not so easy to find sympathy for the walking, talking, real-life version.) As soon as he could get away from living room, Tony disappeared into his work room to consider the words again. Before he knew it, the genius hacker was already breaking into SHIELD's system with the help of JARVIS. (It had become an alarming habit, almost second nature for him now. Alarming to Pepper, of course. Not him.)

Good times.

_Yo-ton. Probably a J_, Tony mused. _J-o-t-o-n._ He typed it into the SHIELD database. _Nothing. Ah. Wait. A suggestion. Gotta love these prompts. J-o-t-u-n. Huh. Jotunheim…_ Tony's fingers flew as he copied and pasted the data over into his private server, grinning to himself. _Nice, light, bed-time reading material._ His expression tightened as he caught a hand-drawn depiction of a blue humanoid with red eyes. _Or not._ Butt plopping down on his swivel chair heavily, Tony leaned forward and began to read.

-0-0-0-

Four hours later, Tony came up for air. Sat back in the soft chair. Mind far away. Fingers drumming restlessly as the facts began to sink in. Trying to piece together the puzzle. _Jotun. The Jotun._ _A kind of savage race once at the height of civilization. Hubris set in. That's when Aesir and the Jotun went to war. The Aesir showed them who was boss. Typical Odin_, Tony rolled his eyes. _The Casket of Ancient Winters was taken away and the Jotun fell back into savagery. __And of course, that's what Loki and Thor would have grown up with for history. Probably were like the rest of Asgard, looking down on the people they had crushed. Well, not that we were any better after the World Wars. _  


_A Casket._ Tony groaned. _Of course there's some kind of magical trinket or box to lay around ready for the next villain to pick it up. I sure hope to hell Odin's stashed it far away from Doctor Doom and his pals. OK. So. Casket gone, Jotunheim and the Jotun crushed. What does that mean…_ _And that small, potentially disturbing after note on Thor. About him being sent to Earth for restarting a war with Jotun. OK. Stop kidding yourself, Tony. Not potentially. Really disturbing. And Loki was probably right there in the thick of it, if the damned idiot didn't start it himself._

_And he calls himself a Jotun. _

Tony considered Loki. Thor. Like day and night, they were. The sun and the moon. Thor was tall and tan and big and golden and everything red and bright and cheery and, well, BIG. Loki was tall too. Perhaps if he straightened as tall as Thor. Maybe not. Hard to tell from where Tony was standing. He grimaced. _Damn tall Aesir. OK. Loki was tall._ But he was pale and dark-haired and green-eyed and everything that was dark and green and shadowy and burning. Intensity personified. Where Thor strode; Loki skirted. Thor boomed; Loki whispered. Thor was the force of nature personified; Loki was the force of spirit personified. _Like yin and yang_, Tony rubbed his face tiredly. And there was that one time.

He paused at the memory. A memory of downcast blue eyes and a reluctant admission.

"_He said that he had grown up under my shadow. I did not mean it to be that way."_

_Perhaps_, Tony stared again at the picture of the Jotun warrior, hand clasping a dagger of ice. _The only shadow Loki was standing within was the shadow inside himself._

_If he's in fact from Jotun. Does Thor know? Or Odin? Odin's gotta know. What am I doing anyway? It's fucking three in the morning and I'm sitting here thinking about some homeless bum who can't learn his lesson to save his life. Literally. I should be in bed. Snuggling with Pepper._

Tony jerked out his feet.

"JARVIS," he called. "Shut everything down and make sure everything is saved for the night. If you haven't yet, withdraw from SHIELD as quietly as you can."  
"Yes, sir," replied the ever-polite AI. "And sir, I would like to notify you concerning our guest, who, as of thirty-five seconds ago, arose from bed and is currently going out into the hallway."  
"Aw, hell, which one? Don't tell me, that was a dumb question. You mean Loki."  
"Yes, sir. Mr. Odinson is making his way out to the living room. He appears… agitated and disoriented."  
"He would," Tony sighed. "Try to hold him up. I'll be up as soon as I can."

Slipping on his bracelets (just in case Loki wanted to redecorate Stark Towers or give Tony an up and close encounter with his tower's front sidewalk again), Tony ran up and sure enough, found Loki making his way out onto the balcony, slight body bent against the high wind and snow which was flurrying about. Cursing lightly, Tony slipped on Bruce's boots and a coat that smelled suspiciously of chili (_Thor_?) and followed the dark-haired man outside.

He found Loki, sitting on the edge, looking down, looking across the cityscape, still glittering with lights, even in the early morning. Tony wondered if this was what he had imagined when he first wanted the ex-God of Mischief over – talking Loki off of a ledge.

"Out for a bit of fresh air, huh." Tony started casually; choosing to ignore Loki's startled jump and the following glare of anger. "Well, fresh is giving it a bit too much credit – it's been a while since it's gotten this cold – normally things are a bit more clement this time of year. It's January and February that people have to be careful about. I mean, traditionally, we think Christmas always comes with snow like some kind of package deal. Climate change is going to fix that, I suppose. You know what they say – green Christmases make fat graveyards. Though it doesn't look like that this year. Of course it wouldn't. Not the year you choose to come to Earth and start your – well, whatever it is. Aw, hell, Loki, I don't think I can feel my balls anymore –"  
"It does not seem to have affected your tongue," Loki raised an eyebrow amused.  
"You aren't cold?"  
"A little," Loki sighed, his breath hanging frosty. "If I had my magic – I would never feel it."  
"If you had magic, you wouldn't be here, enjoying my company and the fine view."  
"There is that too. Small mercies," Loki muttered sarcastically.  
"You want to come in and talk?"  
"Not particularly." Loki's gaze was still trained out on the buildings.

Everything shrouded in white. The distant buildings were now slowly being swallowed by a new front of clouds rolling in and soon, Tony knew, New York's lights and noise would be suppressed by the thick blanket of snow and heavy weather. _Traffic will be shitty today_, Tony mused. _Good thing we got Rudolph in already._

"C'mon in," Tony jerked his head, teeth beginning to chatter. "You never did get that drink I offered you, right?"  
"It is very early in the morning, Stark," Loki turned then to eye the man in amusement.  
"Better late than never, they say, but I think it's even more awesome to be even earlier. The earlier, the even better – look at this. I'm making no sense. My brain cells are shutting down. C'mon, you know I can't leave you out out here. Pepper'll kill me. And you don't want to piss off Thor now, do you? Look at you – no coat, no shoes. You're going to turn blue with cold. Like Babe, but less cute."  
"Babe?" Loki jumped up, shoulders tensed. "I am no child, Stark. If I – If I –"  
"What? No! Babe. A blue cow? You know about Babe and Bunyan? No. Of course you haven't heard it. Aesir education kinda blows, you know? And, yeah, I get it. If you had your magic you'd show me, blah blah blah."  
"No," Loki frowned. "I was going to say that if I did not have this – this cursed... this curse on me, I would show you with my fists."  
"Didn't think you were much of a fist guy," Tony nudged Loki in and locked the glass door behind him with a tap on the electronic security box beside it. "Thought that was Thor's thing."  
"It is true that fists are Thor's domain, however, I too was trained in the arts of martial warfare."  
"Martial arts?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "You know kungfu?"

Loki stared at the human blankly before turning away. Tony, shedding the coat and shoes by the door, padded over to the newly renovated bar and poured himself and Loki a drink. Sliding onto one of the bar stools, Loki fingered the glass before taking a careful swallow. His eyes widened but there was no other reaction as the scotch hit the back of his throat. Tony chuckled as Loki finally expelled a small grating cough.

"So, are all Aesir, uh, unaffected by the cold like you are?" Tony asked Loki artlessly after he had downed his first glass.  
"Hm. To a certain extent," Loki replied carefully eyeing Tony, he sipped a bit more of his drink.

Tony shrugged and poured another for himself.

"Just curious."  
"Indeed."  
"Well. Curious and just now, even more curious."  
"Curiosity comes at a high price," Loki replied carefully. He grimaced, "I should know."

Tony opened his mouth to ask for more details, but something hard and sharp and painful crossed Loki's face and the genius billionaire had a feeling that it just might be too hard to ask on top of what he wanted to say himself. He poured Loki some more alcohol and himself his third glass. Loki, left eyebrow cocked, watched him down the glass.

"What has your curiosity piqued?"  
"You," Tony raised his glass in salute to the ex-God of Mischief. "You should be honoured."  
"Hm," Loki frowned. "I am really not of much interest –"  
"Now that is bullshit, and you know it, Reindeer Games. Jotun, you said. So I went out for some information gathering. Jotun. Jotunheim. Someone called Laughy. Lawful. Laughable."  
"Laufey." Loki's voice was pure ice.

_Yes_, Tony thought. _You would know all about it then._

"Thor apparently started a war with them and got his ass kicked to Earth last time for it," Tony prompted. "You were there, I presume."  
"Oh yes," Loki agreed. "My brother was out of control, as was usual back then. Entirely bent on destruction and never thinking for the good of the Realm. His little... show... on Jotunheim brought Asgard to the brink of war. Of course, I conceived a plan which would save the entire kingdom."  
"Huh." Tony nodded, eyeing the intense expression on the dark-haired man's face – pain, regret and something like anger. "Yeah. 'Kay. But it didn't go as planned."  
"If you mean, did I stay King of Asgard and thoroughly wipe out the Frost Giants?" Loki gave Tony a dark look followed by a small smirk. "Obviously... not. But I did manage to at least strike at the head and do some damage to their kingdom if only for a little while."  
"Laughable. I mean. Laufey." Tony's eyes widened as realization set in. "Son of a gun. You killed the king of Jotunheim? Ballsy. I bet Laughable never saw it coming."

Loki gave Tony a sharp grin, a wide, wolfish smile all teeth and no cheer.

"Yes. Laughable. A laughable attempt indeed if he thought he would bring Asgard to her knees so easily. But he could not expect it, since I was the one who brought him to Odin's room." Loki shrugged and emptied his glass jerkily, after which Tony filled it again. He watched the thin, bony hands turn the cup, catching the soft light of his bar in the amber liquid. "But in the end it came to naught. All that I hoped for – could never come true."  
"What did you want, Loki?" Tony asked, feeling his curiosity get the better of him. Again. "Was it a game? Or something else?"

The glare Tony received could have killed him if it had been lasers. Luckily it wasn't. Tony kept on breathing. And talking. Unfortunately.

"Or was it the fact that you were trying to prove something..."  
"Prove?" Loki's smile twisted crookedly. "Perhaps. Prove to my father and Thor that I was capable. That I was equal to them. That I deserved respect from those who I thought were – " Loki paused awkwardly. Then continued: "In the end, I realized the truth. There was nothing I could do to change who I was in their eyes. Which was, which is, nothing."  
"Hm. I hear you," Tony nodded. "My dad was a bit of a brainiac like yours truly and of course, he let everyone know it. And he was awesome. But he also just kinda patted me on the head was like 'there, there' – and always looking for Big Blue. I couldn't forgive him for the longest time. If ever."  
"Big Blue," Loki tipped his head a bit, green eyes inquiring.  
"Steve. Captain America. Gay striped corset. Ring a bell?"  
"Oh. I believe I met him in Germany." Comprehension set in. "He is the leader of the Avengers, is he not?"  
"Maybe." Tony's eye twitched as he conceded the small barb a victory to Loki. "By the way, sorry about the tackle there. Well. No. I'm not sorry. Must've done a number on your back. Now that I think about it... there was that whole time when Thor no doubt tossed you to Earth from the quinjet. And then... the Hulk..." Tony trailed off as he tallied up the damage. "After that adventure, you must've had one hell of a sore back, Reindeer Games. They've got chiropractors up in Asgard?"  
"I remember a _slight_ soreness," Loki sniffed. "But we Aesir are made of sterner stuff –"  
"Yuh-huh. Speaking of sore spots, father issues and all – you didn't react well to the idea of going home. And there was that thing you said – where you called yourself, what was it – a pitiful Jotun the other day. Was that... metaphorical or literal?"

Tony held his breath as Loki's back stiffened suddenly and he could see the memory hit Loki and he could see realization trickle down into the man's – _god's? Ex-god's?_ - face and then an awful blankness.

"Forget it," Tony flapped a hand, realizing that he had just stepped in a mine that was probably closer to an atom bomb than an actual mine. "Just, you know, curious. I don't know why we didn't think about it before. What with your colouring and all. You look closer to that Xena woman I saw in the SHIELD files awhile back than the usual Asgardian warriors. Unless you're actually a woman. Which is, you know, OK. No judging allowed in Stark Towers regarding personal life choices of the, uh, sexual nature. Anyways, I guess you guys up there don't study genetics. I'd have been asking questions – although it'd be awkward if your parents took you aside for a talk about the postman..."

Looking up at the ex-god, Tony's chatter trailed off as he realized that Loki's fierce gaze had turned downward to his tumbler. Tremours ran through the thin hands and Loki's face, his face! Tony would never forget. He face was a blank canvas being filled by riots of colours, clashing and surging and rippling, longing to come free – pushing outward, needing to explode – release. Loki screaming up at a blue sky crossed his mind once again. Loki screaming up at the gatekeeper (or so Thor had explained later). But here, it had no place to go, for some reason (Tony wasn't sure if he was thankful or not), Loki could not find voice and everything seemed to implode inwards – and Tony was only aware of a chill in the air and harsh panting – his breath now frosty on the air – and Loki's breath hoarse and ragged.

And the tumbler and the scotch was frozen solid over.

"We do not talk about it," Loki finally spoke, voice low and even. "You do not want me to tear your throat out with my bare hands or find out what it is like to die from broken bottle to the heart. Or to reacquaint yourself with the sensation of falling as –"  
"Well," Tony interrupted the god. "Let's forget it, OK? No ripping throats or stabbing or defenestration. I won't say a thing. You won't say a thing... Save yourself some more brain damage. Heyyyy, you ever had microwaved scotch? I haven't. Can't be good right? Screw it. I'll get you something else a bit better. Hm. Thor said you like sweet stuff. Maybe a cocktail is more your thing. Bet you don't have those in Asgard. If you did, I think life would be a lot simpler. Trust me." Tony dumped the glass into the garbage nearby, keeping one eye out on Loki.

The thin shoulders were relaxing again, the hands now clasping his knees painfully tight, no doubt to keep them from shaking and Loki's gaze was now unnervingly, very much in the present.

"Let's try again," Tony continued. "Christmas. So. You got any requests for meat? Turkey? Rabbit? Donkey? Hey, don't look at me funny, Chinese people do it all the time. Ever tried sushi? You know, fish? Round? Rice?" Loki shook his head mutely, watching as Tony poured him another drink.

Closing his eyes, he let Tony's voice wash over him, listening for the tell-tale clink of ice and something that sounded grating and then a tap as a glass was set on the bar's top.

"You don't know about Japanese sushi... There is a remarkable hole in your education, Rudolph. Don't get pissy. Thor's as well. Well, OK, how about sweet and sour pork? You've not tried any of these? What the hell were you doing while you were here on Earth?" Tony asked, shocked.  
"Trying to overrun it," Loki said dryly. "Or has your puny intellect already forgotten?"  
"Can't forget that. Hope I never will. Thanks be to JARVIS and instant replay, probably will never forget. You versus the Hulk. If I put it up on Youtube, it would be faved by thousands in a week. If I put it on Teevo, it'd be the most rewatched video of all time. Hands down. Well, OK. I guess that between the helicarrier and Stark Tower, there was next to no time at all to get a nice buffet in. But surely you managed to get a snack? There's a Seven-Eleven just down the way. They have these soft cookies that are freshly baked every morning.,,"

The sound of more liquid being poured. Loki opened one eye. Tony seemed to be in the middle of some massive alcoholic creation. _How long does it take for a man to pour some mead?_ The shorter man turned around with something green in his hand which would have perhaps looked better in some mad alchemist's work room. His eyes opening wider as the round glass was pushed towards him, Loki surveyed what looked to be a drink.

"Love Junk," Tony said. "Try it. Midori, peach schnapps and –"

Loki took a sip and pursed his lips as cocktail passed smoothly down his throat. There was some kind of a zing to it –

"Apples," Loki said. "Interesting mixture, Iron Man. With Idunn's apples, this would make for a potent brew."  
"I'm going to pretend to know what you said and take it for what it is, a back-handed compliment," Tony nodded, pouring himself more scotch. Paused at Loki's rising eyebrows as the ex-God of Mischief watched Tony wash back another couple of fingers of scotch. "I know what you're thinking. It's his fourth or fifth glass. No problemo, Prongs. I can drink this stuff like water. Almost. So. Thought about what kind of meat you'd like to eat for Christmas? Or was that you just getting in a quick snooze because your bed is calling you? You know what - maybe I should give you five choices seeing as your last stay here seemed to have been pretty quick and dirty. Literally. You missed out a lot – so, you should have more say."  
"You are a fool, Stark," Loki finally said. He set down his drink, now half finished. Apparently, the God of Mischief liked sweet drinks. _Bingo._  
"Fool – as in – like a jester? Which is so medieval by the way. Or you mean, I'm an idiot, 'cause in some ways, yes, I own up to being an idiot. But I'm a genius idiot. Which is complicated, but doable."  
"You show mercy too easily," Loki's dark eyes met his. Dark eyes heavy with fatigue but haunted. Unable to find ease in sleep. Tony understood. Oh, how he understood. "It is a weakness."  
"Ah. Well," Tony paused. "You can argue that. Sure. But, Loki, helping you out isn't at all about who you are. It's not all about you, you know."  
"Really?" Loki replied sarcastically – yet also, there was fatigue which softened the hard edges. "I did not notice."  
"It's all about me. No, really. This whole Christmas thing. Which you know nothing about, but you will soon. It's not about you being evil and pathetic and kinda a crybaby and in need of a good meal. It's about me and where I stand. I stand on the side of good. Most times. And I would like to think that, if I see a fellow man or, um, ex-god, in a pinch, I'd help. I was there once – in a pinch – and a friend helped me."  
"The Super Soldier?" asked Loki.  
"God help me, no." Tony laughed, then stopped laughing at the memory of Yensin. "No. My friend. He didn't make it."

Loki's green eyes blankly stared back at Tony who sighed.

"Which means, in our language, that he, well, he died."  
"I see."  
"He could've tried to save his own ass back there. Some people might call him a fool too, for putting himself last. But if it wasn't for his sacrifice, I wouldn't have lived. Can I call him a fool?"

Loki looked down at his hands, face blank, which Tony thought was a step up from emotional chaos but not much better.

"I guess, Loki, I liked laughing at you – I mean, who wouldn't? But I don't kick a man when he's down."  
"I am not a man, Stark."  
"Fine. God. Aesir."  
"I am not that either," Loki stirred his drink thoughtfully, his gaze crawling slowly, as if shyly up to meet Tony's wide brown eyes. "Did not Thor tell you? I am a monster."

* * *

**Deep conversation in the middle of the night. Hope this isn't too OOC or something. Let me know what you think!**


	14. It's Cold Outside: Part 2

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Reply to Guest Reviewer:

Guest: I'm glad you're enjoying my take on Loki. He is such a fun character to write because he's so complex! I hope you will enjoy what I have planned for him!

**THANKS TO ALL REVIEWERS!**

**Also... bad news, but I'll need some time to catch up on some chapters, so the updates will slow down a little for a bit. Perhaps a chapter every other day until I write up some more to buffer myself with. Sorry! V.V It's my life. Kinda got complicated suddenly with the need to collate marks for the exams and etc.**

* * *

Christmas Magic

Chapter 14  
It's Cold Outside: Part 2

"My mother will start to worry - Beautiful, what's your hurry?  
My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to the fireplace roar  
So really I'd better scurry - Beautiful, please don't hurry  
Maybe just a half a drink more - Put some records on while I pour  
Oh, baby it's cold outside"

("Baby, It's Cold Outside" - sung by Dean Martin)

**[Previously on _Christmas Magic_]**

"_I guess, Loki, I liked laughing at you – I mean, who wouldn't? But I don't kick a man when he's down."  
"I am not a man, Stark."  
"Fine. God. Aesir."_  
"_I am not that either," Loki stirred his drink thoughtfully, his gaze crawling slowly, as if shyly up to meet Tony's wide brown eyes. "Did not Thor tell you? I am a monster."_

-0-0-0-

A beat.

"If you are talking about the-big-blue-elephanty-thing-in-the-room-that-we-do-not-speak-of," Tony said. "Let's not and say we did. Because as far as I am concerned, that's all fucked up bullshit."

"Stark, you do not know –"  
"No, I know. Or at least, I think I know enough. Has Thor talked about anything with you?"  
"He usually spouts some childish nonsense about 'second chances'," Loki said, then he frowned. "This time he has said nothing. I... am glad. Perhaps he will finally attain some kind of sound judgement and leave well enough alone."  
"Hm. He's probably just waiting for the right time to talk to you."  
"Yes. I am afraid of that also."  
"No, you aren't."

Loki's gaze whipped upwards and he glared at the shorter man who stood before him, brazenly smiling back with good humour and a little bit of a mischievous air.

"You love it," Tony smiled even wider. "You know it. You're such a drama queen. Which, you know, I'm kinda seeing this whole thing, where, if you were in high school, Thor would be Prom King, but you'd totally knock out the competition and take the stage as the Queen."  
"Foolishness," Loki said, but his eyes shifted and his eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated the Iron Man's words.

"You probably don't know what drama queen is. Or a prom."  
"I know what a king is, however," Loki frowned. "I would think I could just as easily attain position of king anywhere at any time."  
"Yuh-huh. Sure. But deep down, or rather, not so deep down, you're totally a drama queen, you know, someone who is highly emotional and given to theatrics. One word: Stuttgard."  
"Theatrics are sometimes necessary, especially upon those who are weak-minded, stubborn and yet need guidance." Loki's gaze was blistering. "And although I am able to transform myself at will into the female form, I do not see how that would make me a queen, much less one who is overly emotive."  
"Uh, I've got a video of you screaming at the Hulk like a child having a temper tantrum. And – wait – sorry. Back up. Rewind. You can change yourself into a woman? Gender bend? Grow boobs?"

Loki's lips quirked upwards. "The great Iron Man has a secret vulnerability for the weaker sex?"  
"Uhhh... First. Not so secret. Second. Don't say 'weaker sex' around Pepper. She'll castrate you. And I'm sure you know what that means. Third. If you were a woman, would that make you weak?"  
"No," Loki blinked.  
"Point taken. Fourth." Tony tipped his head and gazed intently at Loki. "This question is for the, uh, Tony Stark archives on Asgardian, Aesir and Miscellaneous research, just started a few hours ago and still ongoing... As a woman, what are your measurements?"

Loki's smile flashed across his face quickly but Tony caught it. The ex-God of Mischief had been mildly pleased. _The egotistical bastard._

"Amusing, Stark. You interested?"  
"You know me, just... curious."  
"Perhaps one day, I will grant you a glimpse of what I can achieve as a woman. No one has left my side unsatisfied. You will never have experienced anything like it..." Loki leaned forward, lazily stirring his drink with one hand. Tony's appreciative grin melted away as the god continued. "As I tear you from limb to limb and listen to your woman scream at the sight of your –"  
"Ooookaaayyy," Tony eased the drink out of Loki's lax fingers. "I think that's enough for the evening – or, um, early morning."  
"I was not finished," Loki frowned.  
"Yeahhh... but you're obviously tired and you're creeping me out."  
"I was not finished," Loki repeated, leaning forward, eyes now a bit too fervently green for Tony's liking. "You owed me a drink."  
"And you did get it – three of them."  
"Two and a half."  
"Two and a half. Definitely more than the one drink I promised you. Up up up. Let's get to bed, huh. You're obviously a little buzzed judging by how much you've been smiling in the past half hour. I don't want to find out what you're like actually drunk."  
"I could hardly become intoxicated on Midgardian mead," Loki sniffed.  
"Normally, maybe not," Tony eased past Loki, edging him forward in the direction of his room. "But remember that your body is still very much underweight. A few glasses of alcohol may affect you more than you think."  
"I know my own body," Loki replied haughtily. "As a man and as a woman. I know my body twice as much as you know your own, Stark."  
"Yeah, I'm sure. See, you think that makes sense to you? Bad sign. Now, get thee to bed."  
"Do not mock me, Tony Stark," Loki drew himself up to skewer Tony with another glare. "I am not to be taken lightly and –"  
"Yeah. Tell me what you want to do to me tomorrow. I mean, later today. Preferably around lunchtime, 'kay? Right. Bye!"

With that, Tony pushed the ex-God into his guest room and disappeared down the hallway. After watching Tony slip into another room at the far end, Loki found his way over to his bed and lay down. He closed his eyes and remembered what Tony had said. _He could've tried to save his own ass back there. Some people might call him a fool too, for putting himself last. But if it wasn't for his sacrifice, I wouldn't have lived. Can I call him a fool?_ Tony had been serious. There had been truth in his eyes. _I am surrounded by fools, _Loki sighed._ A whole world of fools, it seems. But some of them are kind, _he reminded himself._ Some of them I will owe a debt to before this ordeal is concluded._

And somehow, that didn't trouble him at all. And that was what really worried hiim.

-0-0-0-

"OK, Stark," Clint stomped into Tony's not-so-secret lab around one in the afternoon. "He's not moving from his bedroom for some reason so now's a good time as any."

The rest of the Avenger gang was trooping in behind the archer looking super serious and just a little annoyed and worried. _Well, not Bruce_, Tony sighed thankfully. _But Steve is starting to look his age, which, well, that can't be good. And I have a pretty good guess what this is all about and how it's all going to go down. Which makes it boring. Twice as not good._

"We need to talk," Natasha said coolly. "Now."  
"About?" Tony swivelled slowly in his chair as Pepper resealed the door with a password and began to tug forward the Whiteboard of Doom. "Not that I don't like hanging with my best of buddies, but as you can see, Robin Hood, I'm kinda busy. Stuff. Important things."  
"Waxing your cars and tinkering with the robots is hardly important," Clint glared. "We have something bigger to think about. Tall. Dark-haired. Green-eyed. Sociopath. You may have heard of him."  
"I need something stronger than coffee."

Pepper poured Tony more coffee and tried to look sympathetic.

"It's Loki," Steve said. "What do we do with him?"  
"I thought we talked about that yesterday around lunch or something," Tony flapped a hand lazily.  
"We did," Clint said. "You, not so much. Which is surprising considering you are the man to blab on till kingdom come."  
"We could not come to any decision," Thor said simply. "My brother will not remain here so easily. Keeping Loki preoccupied is indeed very difficult."  
"Don't make it sound so exciting, Point Break. We all know. It's a full-time occupation." Tony paused, then sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine. If you really want to hear my input, it's pretty simple actually. Step one. Secret Santa."  
"This is not a joke, Stark," Steve's blue eyes hardened.

Natasha rolled her eyes and Pepper sighed, giving the short genius a disapproving look.

"I'm not joking, Steve. We do the whole Christmas thing. Every kind of activity we can do. Make snowflakes. Bake cookies. Have the Christmas dinner with the fucking turkey and all that meat that JARVIS is ordering. Are you writing this down, Pepper? Steve, you go to church for Christmas Eve, right? It's your shtick. Go get him religiousified or something. Sprinkle him with holy water or whatever."  
"I resent that," Steve replied.  
"Well, you wanted his opinion. And it sounds like a plan," Bruce hesitated. "Sort of. But I think we were all more thinking security."  
"Security," Thor shifted uneasily. "I do not want to see my little brother in chains."  
"I don't either," Tony agreed. "It's a bit too kinky for me and plus, I'd like to remain straight. If possible. Remind me, Miss Potts, for which team am I batting?"  
"I'll pass, Mr. Stark," Pepper replied smoothly, deciding that if Steve's face turned any redder, the man would die of an aneurism. "Any other ideas? The Secret Santa sounds like a great way to start."  
"That sounds like fun," Jane smiled. "We could put a cap on a hundred bucks for the gifts and we'll have to decorate too. What else did you guys have planned?" she turned to Clint and Natasha.  
"I don't do Christmas," Natasha replied shortly.  
"Uhhh..." Clint glanced at Steve. "Well, I had planned to do some sledding or snowboarding or ice skating. Something fun. If the snow sticks around, a snow fight. Drinking hot chocolate..."

Pepper's list was getting rather long.

"And there is that matter of charity," Thor added. "Jane mentioned helping the poor?"  
"Uh, yeah, add that," Tony nodded. "Stark Enterprises should be seen doing something for the season. Any other suggestions, Steve?"  
"We'll get a real tree. Go out to the forest and cut it," Steve finally said. "And I could take Loki to a service, if I can get a promise from him that he won't do anything crazy."  
"Promise food and I'm sure he'll eat out of your hand. Literally," smirked Tony.  
"Yes, see, that is the problem," Natasha's soft voice cut through Tony's chatter like a knife through butter. "How do we keep Loki in control. It's a question that needs to be answered."  
"I thought I just said it: food. Which is great 'cause there's tons of it on this planet."  
"All joking aside."  
"My little brother is no longer a threat to you," Thor frowned. "His magic is gone –"  
"Yes, but he could still stab us in our sleep," Clint shifted uneasily. "Or poison the Christmas punch. Or strangle us with vines of holly."  
"Holly isn't a vine. Ivy is. What a lovely thought," Tony said, remembering Loki's words before. He got up to get yet another cup of coffee, suddenly wishing he could spike it with some Baileys. "I suddenly feel all better now, Barton. But I disagree on the punch. Loki isn't so much into wasting food anymore and if we choose Love Junk as the cocktail punch for the party this year, he definitely would never poison it. That guy would probably like to drink cocktails until Ragnarok comes if he had his way."  
"Tony," Pepper folded her arms. "How is Loki suddenly becoming so fond of cocktails? Is this in any way related to how late you came to bed last night – or, I should say, this morning?"  
"And he complained of a slight headache this morning..." Thor's face suddenly lightened. "Son of Stark, you enduced him to partake of Midgardian mead! This is good news!"  
"Good – good news? We don't need the homicidal, suicidal, genocidal, batshit crazy son of bitch running around New York drunk!"  
"Stark, that wasn't wise," Steve had to agree with Clint. "Although I do not believe he'll just be allowed to go out and run around New York during this season. That is the last thing we want him to do. He'll come to see that life with us is a far, far better option than what is out there."  
"You think he can go into a bar and order a cocktail?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "Puh-lease. Besides, who do you think is super awesome at mixing cocktails? I'm not just a dab hand at mechanics, I will have you know. Machines, women and alcohol. That's what I do. And I can multitask pretty well too. I'm not just a pretty face, Stevie."  
"OK. So, we keep him doped up on cocktails and food and Christmas cheer... Does anyone else think this is a very bad plan?" Bruce asked.  
"Yes," chorused several voices.  
"He will harm no one," Thor protested. "I will see to that personally."  
"Great, but we still need to be careful," insisted Natasha.  
"Yes. There's no way I'm going to relax unless I at least carry some throwing knives or a gun," Clint nodded.  
"I second that," Natasha agreed.

Tony turned around, hand on his right eye, and glared at the group.

"Shut up, Barton, Romanoff. This ain't a democracy!" Tony dropped his hands, rolled his eyes and moved over to look at Pepper's list. "Seriously, what do you think he's going to do? He's weaker than a kitten. Well. OK. Maybe not that weak – but between Thor and the Hulk, I think we're OK. Even Gramps over here could probably take him down. Probably."  
"You guys can carry a gun or a knife," Steve sighed. "Ignore Stark. On the other hand, let's not whip them out unless we really, really have to."  
"Yes, because carrying weapons twenty-four-seven makes me feel so much better," Bruce ruffled his hair. "I pass."  
"Yeah, guns are so passe."  
"So speaks the Merchant of Death," Clint muttered.  
"Ouch," Tony grinned at the short archer. "I find that rather amusing. You're cute, Barton. But not that cute. Fine. People, tote those guns if it helps you sleep at night. Thor, you can have your hammer back. Not that our previous – suggestion – didn't really stop you before. Steve, you can... I don't know, keep those fists up. Bruce has the Hulk and I'll be the one who looks non-threatening and actually willing to relax for Christmas. Sounds like a plan to me. Great having a talk with you people. We should do it again."  
"We'll also set up times for escorting Loki," Steve said. "I'll make up the list."  
"Keeping an eye on him?" Tony turned to stare at the Captain. "I see. Are you voting for shower duty? 'Cause that means that at least one less person will be such a tight ass."  
"STARK."  
"Whatever," Tony shrugged. "Just put me on night watch. I'm up anyways. It's this whole night owl thing. But Fridays I need off so Pepper and I can do our thing. And I know that look – and it's not quite the thing that you think I'm thinking of. Well, OK, I lie, it might be that thing and other things as well. Anyways, respect the thing. I've got to have a life at some point."  
"And the Secret Santa." Pepper was pulling out a metal can while Jane was writing names down. "Let's do it now. JARVIS, send down Loki. We'll set up the charity event and the outdoor activity thing as soon as possible. Let's turn this board around and put it over here in the corner. We don't want Loki knowing what we're up to."  
"Yeah. No kidding."

Everyone waited while Jane and Pepper finished writing down the names, cutting the paper and folding the names into small folds and throwing them into a container. Loki slowly (stiffly, his wounds were healing much more slowly than he would like) descended the stairs and waited for Tony to unlock the door. His green eyes slitted with suspicion, Loki's gaze rested on all of the Avenger's faces as if uncertain what to expect. He hung back and edged closer to Jane and Thor, while putting a good distance between himself and Bruce. Clint smirked.

"This is all very nice and cozy," Tony jumped up. "Let's get started, shall we?"

-0-0-0-

Later that night, after another very filling supper, Loki sat on the edge of his bed, eyes closed, gaze turned inward as he contemplated himself. It was still there. His magic, just barely out of his reach, always. Tempting him. Mocking him, perhaps. Like he stood on the edge of a great river and could not draw to the edge to dip even his toe into the powerful currents. But never within his grasp.

_I am weak and useless and I am no match for them_, Loki curled his lip at himself. _The only element I hold now is surprise. They cannot know that I can move so easily, so quickly._

_Not that you can, really_, another part of him pointed out. _You should not even be considering what you are considering._

_I must do it_, Loki muttered to himself. _I must. I cannot carry such a debt under these mewling mortals who have nothing to recommend them besides their ability to be led like sheep. _

_Not that you are any better_, his traitorous self pointed out. _Relying on them as you are._

_Go, go, go, go. Now. While you have the chance. While they know you to be as weak as you are. If you are to follow this madness, there is no time like the present._

So Loki, pulling himself slowly to his feet, slipped out of his room. On the way, he slipped into his brother's room and found a jacket which was too big for him, but the inside was lined with fur and would protect him against the cold which threatened to reveal the secret which the fool Iron Man had accepted only too easily.

_Too easily. Can it be real acceptance? Unlikely._ He pushed the preposterous thoughts away. Already his fingers were easing open the Iron Man's room. It was empty as he expected. Some of the Avengers were below in the gym, sparring no doubt. The Iron Man was no doubt in his lab. Loki smirked as he glanced about the room. A small leather bag. He upturned it onto the bed scattering the contents. Not the Iron Man's, unless Stark carried a mirror and other mysterious feminine things he could only guess at.

_He is vain enough_, Loki sniffed, his fingers already rifling through an equally business-like wallet. He counted the unfamiliar paper which the mortals called money. _But we know it for what it is_, he rolled the bills up and shoved them in his pants pocket. _We know. It is naught but an illusion and meaningless. With no intrinsic value other than what faith we put into them. And yet, so important. For some. For these fools. For __those__ fools. And who is more foolish, the fools or the fool who chases after them?_ He paused at the thought, momentarily, before he moved onward, silently as he came. Pulling his coat closer, Loki slipped into the metal box – the elevator, he reminded himself. Elevator. Floor One could not come sooner.

As the door opened, a disembodied called out a name.

"Mr. Odinson."

He kept walking.

"Mr. Odinson, may I enquire as to where are you going?"

It took a few seconds for Loki to realize that the body-less being known as JARVIS was addressing him. That name had no meaning for him. _Loki. God of Mischief. God of Lies. God of Chaos. Laufeyson. Laughable Laufey. Odinson, once upon a time. Now, just Loki. Looney. Loki._ He straightened his shoulders and replied quietly. "It is just Loki." He paused. "I go out.

Within seconds, Loki once again left Stark Tower and pulling up the jacket's hood, he strode down the street hoping that his self-appointed mission would not be in vain.

-0-0-0-

His eyes were trained on a screen with an arcane grouping of graphs and moving information which would make Steve and Thor's heads spin. His eyes could only see the suspicion and the tension in Loki's body as he stood apart from the group. As they had drawn names for the Secret Santa. He had picked the name and stared at the paper, blankly, and then raised tormented eyes on his brother. Loki had looked more like he was preparing for his execution than enjoying a holiday of Christmas cheer.

_He's not going to be the happiest bugger here_, Tony sighed, massaging the bridge of nose. Beside him, Bruce was removing his glasses to do something similar. Heavy rock music blared from the speakers but did nothing to soothe the two scientists. To Tony, it was clear that Bruce was worried. Worried about Loki.

_Some one is rolling in their graves, somewhere_, Tony thought. _Fury. If he was dead... And Loki isn't going to appreciate it. At all. Of course. And Loki is still not in the peak of health. Miracles can't happen in two days. Not with something like this. It's going to be like the Titanic __with the fucking iceberg. And the iceberg is a Jotun Asgardian prince with megalomaniac, sociopathic tendencies. _

Tony's music shut off suddenly and both he and Bruce raised their heads in question, their eyes going to the door expecting to see Pepper or one of the ladies standing there with their arm's folded disapprovingly. No one was there. For a moment, they gazed at each other blankly.

"Uh... who killed the music?" Tony finally frowned. "JARVIS?"  
"Sir, I would like to inform you that Mr. Loki Odinson has left the building to unspecified destination."  
"What?" Tony threw down his tablet and stylus, running to the door with Bruce on his heels. "You didn't try to stop him?"  
"That was not in my parameters," JARVIS replied. Almost smugly.  
"Call, um..." Tony scrambled. "Alert Thor and Steve. I guess Clint and Natasha are going to want to know. This is so messed up."  
"You guys seen Thor?" Bruce asked as the two stumbled out of the elevator.

Clint and Natasha who had taken over the kitchen island to prime their weapons looked up, frowns on their faces. Clint was already reaching for his bow. Natasha's hands flew as she refitted her favourite gun without even looking at it.

Great, Tony thought. Just great.

"Uh, Tony?" It was Pepper, standing at the end of the hallway in front of the master bedroom, her purse in her hand. "My money's missing."  
"As is my coat," Thor poked his head out the door.  
"Oh shit." Tony said.  
"He's dead meat," Clint grinned. "Where's my tazer?"

* * *

**UH-OH... Another cliff hanger. Don't kill me guys. I'll get something up on Saturday. :) **  
**Where is Loki off to? What is he up to? What are the Avengers going to do? **

**REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**


	15. Want A Fairy Tale Ending?

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Reply to Guests:

D – Update here! Hope you enjoy!

**YOU GUYS ARE SUPER SMART! SO GLAD YOU ARE TRYING TO GUESS WHAT'S COMING UP AHEAD! **

**PLEASE CONTINUE COMMENTING AND REVIEWING! I love to get to know more Avenger fans and it helps me feel motivated to keep updating quickly! **

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 15  
Want A Fairy Tale Ending?

"It was christmas eve babe  
In the drunk tank  
An old man said to me: won't see another one  
And then they sang a song  
The rare old mountain dew  
I turned my face away and dreamed about you  
Got on a lucky one  
Came in eighteen to one  
I´ve got a feeling  
This year´s for me and you  
So happy christmas  
I love you baby  
I can see a better time  
Where all our dreams come true...

You´re a bum you´re a punk  
You´re an old slut on junk  
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed  
You scumbag you maggot  
You cheap lousy faggot  
Happy christmas your arse I pray god it´s our last."  
("Fairy Tale of New York" - sung by The Pogues)

If someone had told Loki several years ago that he would be a) without magic, b) living on the streets of New York slowly starving to death, c) totally reliant on the charity of the Avengers and d) on a misguided quest to repay a debt, Loki would have, no doubt, laughed until his belly was sore. And then torn said person's tongue out along with their heart.

_And yet, here I am_, Loki thought morosely as he waited at the nearest stop at which the local public transport would pause and then continue past. _Against all odds._ He sighed, suddenly feeling every one of the year that he had lived. _Against all reason. Here I am. _

_This is madness, Loki. Madness. _

_And yet it must be done_, he told himself.

_You owe them nothing_, his darker half insisted. _You allowed them to continue breathing. Even more than that, you brought pain upon yourself for their sake._

_But I do. I do. It feels as though it is not yet over. I do not wish to carry that burden anymore. I stand alone. Alone. Let me arrive there. Give me time._

The vehicle arrived, he slipped the metal coins into the slot and took a seat toward the back of the nearly empty transport. It continued on.

_Let me get there on time._

-0-0-0-

"JARVIS, try to get a live feed on Loki. LS should be still up and running. We need to find him and find him fast."  
"Of course, sir."  
"We don't want our local Tightwad Man in Tights getting his hands on Loki first. You know what that means – and I'm sure none of us, even you, want to have another one-eyed Ball of Fury running around." Tony suited up and blasted off toward the skies. "Wanna place bets on where you think he's headed?"  
"I am not given to betting, sir," JARVIS replied blandly. "However, out of all the options, it is most likely that Mr. Odinson returned to his previous lodgings."  
"Such as they were. My thoughts too." Switching his private channel to call the blonde-haired God of Thunder. "Thor."  
"Yes, Man of Iron. You have found my brother?" Thor's voice came in loud and clear. He was flying from building to building with the aid of Mjolnir, pausing here and there to look for a familiar dark head on the streets. Difficult to achieve with the slowly sinking sunlight in your eyes.  
"Well, I have an idea."  
"Indeed?"  
"Clint and 'Tash think that Loki is going to get the hell out of Dodge. Which is why they're heading over to GCS." Tony explained.  
"GCS?"  
"Grand Central Station. And Steve and Bruce are heading over to JFK."  
"JFK?" asked Thor again, now twice as confused.  
"John F. Kennedy. It's an airport." Tony sighed.  
"Your people have a strange manner for naming public arenas," Thor noted.  
"Yeahhh.. OK. So, GCS and JFK are both, well, really good ways to leave the city."  
"So we must join them!"  
"Hold the thought, Point Break. I didn't disagree with them – but I don't agree with them. If you get my meaning."

A pause.

"What I mean to say," Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. "Loki is probably going to go back to that alleyway – to that building he was at before. That's what I think. I think there was unfinished business. Between him and the gang and the homeless dudes. And Loki is not so stupid as leave for places were he would have no help to crawl to in a pinch. Cagey bastard."  
"A ruse!" Thor enthusiastically shouted. "You do not wish for the Son of Barton or Daughter of Romanov to discover my brother. You have a great heart, my friend. If only the others were as –"  
"Whoa, whoa. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here." Tony dialled down his headset so as to preserve his rapidly failing hearing abilities for other things such as Black Sabbath and AC/DC. "Rudolph has not been very vocal of late. He's tired. It's going to take him time to get there, so I think we should be quiet with how we scout out the place. Wait for him. See what he does. Did he talk with you at all? About how or why he ended up getting chased by the gang?"  
"He said naught," Thor sighed. "My brother remains, as always, a cipher. No matter what I say, or do not say, Loki is a man who keeps his own counsel. I fear that Loki will destroy the goodwill of my shield mates with his actions tonight. Perhaps that was his intent all along."

Tony thought about his long conversation with the ex-God.

"_I'm not that either," Loki stirred his drink thoughtfully, his gaze crawling slowly, as if shyly up to meet Tony's wide brown eyes. "Didn't Thor tell you? I am a monster."_

_A monster._

"I don't think so. At least, not entirely. I swear the bastard likes to get the rise out of everyone just for the heck of it. Masochist. But, you know, there's something not fitting here, Thor. Let's just go in quietly. Quietly. Like mice. Like snakes. No muss. No fuss. No lightning. No throwing punches. We go in, we look around... and we see what Loki's up to. If we can't get him to talk, we sure as hell can at least see what he's up to."  
"Indeed."  
"Just follow me."  
"I will." A pause then Thor said softly, "Thank you again, Son of Stark."  
"Here's a cliche for you: what else are friends for?"

-0-0-0-

When Loki edged down the alleyway, keeping both eyes out for anyone who may be waiting for him, for anyone who might leap out at the shadows at him, for Niels. For the gang. For angry homeless men who wouldn't be afraid to wield planks of wood for their cause. _This is __madness_, he thought to himself again._ If there was ever evidence of insanity, _he thought_, it is this. My enemies are right. I – we – I may have spent too long of a time sitting alone in the dark._ Just remembering the pitch black which had cloaked his entire existence for too long forced his eyes open caused him to flinch. Never able to see anything, not even the scraps they would throw down upon his head. Or the animals which would be sent down to torment him.

Green eyes wide open and unfocussed, Loki took deep gulping breaths of the not so fresh cold air, forcing his quivering limbs to move, trying not to curl into himself at the memories which once again threatened to swamp him. Balling his fists into Thor's jacket, he hunched into the wind which still blew down the small alley, now only filled with boxes, bins, cans, trash, scraps of newspaper and cardboard which crinkled underneath his foot. Soon, his feet carried him to the unfamiliar building.

Setting his jaw, drawing himself up to his full height, squaring his shoulders, Loki stepped inside and made his way silently up to the second floor. As he stood in the entrance and looked across the wide room, noting new occupants (someone had set up a well-patched tent), Loki relaxed at the sight of a familiar fire and familiar faces surrounding it.

Feeling awkward and even more foolish than before, Loki edged forward. Paddy and Barker's voice rose in laughter. Jacko was handing out beer cans and There was some mumbling and then more laughter which petered off as Emile nudged Jacko roughly at the sight of green eyes glinting in the darkness. Paddy turned, his face blank at Emile's whispered, "It's HIM!"

Loki, stepped forward again, slowly and carefully, hands spread out and downward.

"Looney," Paddy said quietly.  
"It's Loki," Emile repeated. "Loki. Loki, Paddy."  
"We know," Bobby nodded, eyeing Paddy and Jacko.  
"I mean to bring no trouble nor to harm you," Loki said slowly and carefully, understanding them. It surprised him – but he knew. He understood. What it meant to live on the outside. To always be looking in. To be looked down on. To be hunted. To be seen as less than nothing. To live in fear and anger and hate and desperation. To forget the word trust, even more – to forget what it meant.  
"Loki. Looney," Paddy sniffed. "Way I see it, same person. Come sit down, m'boy. You're looking better than the last time I saw ya."

Loki's eyes darted around the area for a few seconds, saw nothing, and his shoulders relaxed just a little as he moved forward cautiously. Although Niels was a wanted man and would no doubt be kept in the Midgardian prisons for some time, there could be others who sided with him and wished to avenge the man. No sign. Just Emile, Barker, Jacko, Bobby and Paddy.

"I thank you for your... kind... invitation but I fear that I can not stay long," Loki returned, hesitantly. Then added: "I merely wished to thank you and offer you some thing in return for your kindness," Slowly withdrawing his hand from Thor's coat pocket, the ex-God of Mischief held out a small roll of bills. "I am only vaguely familiar with the currency but I believe this may aid you for this upcoming winter. The man Niels will not return, I think, but –"  
"Loki," Paddy shifted and rose, uncertainly, taking the money awkwardly. "Ya didn't have to do this. Not after – all that. The suits just don't pay much attention to us, ya know. In the end, we couldn't helpya at all."

Loki drew back then, eyes widening. He glanced away, suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that the lowest of the lowly mortals had attempted to come to his aid for no other reason but an uncertain camaraderie.

"Don't read too much into it," Jacko said quickly, his sharp eyes not missing out how Loki's hands shook just a little, opening and closing a little too quicly. "Sit down and have a rest. Paddy?"

Paddy was still staring at Loki but the man gestured again and Loki took his place by Emile, on the still empty cardboard bed. Holding up his hands to the warm fire, Loki paused.

"I did not get any wood –" He rose, but Barker laid a hand on him and forced him back down.  
"Ferget it," he shook his head. "Too late to go out for shit like that. We'll do fine with what we got. 'Sides, I figure that's a hefty sum you gave Paddy there."  
"Too much," Paddy said.  
"Split it. Equally," Jacko said.

Bobby and Emile leaned forward, nodding, handing a can of beer to Loki and eyes watching Paddy.

"Well. I guess we can split it," Paddy frowned. "But, Loki, ya need money, right?"  
"I have some," Loki nodded stiffly. "Enough."  
"Hm. Well, if you insist."  
"But I do," Loki repeated. "I insist. In this way, I can –" He stopped and looked down and away. "It is nothing."  
"You said you couldn't stay," Bobby prompted the ex-God. "You on the run again?"  
"You aren't in league with the statues, are you?" asked Emile.  
"I am afraid I am not acquainted with the statues," Loki reassured Emile. "I do not wish to parley with such fearsome company, not as I am."  
"Yes," Jacko's sharp eyes once again shrewdly gave Loki the once over. "Looked that up as soon as you got booked. Powerless, aintcha? Probably easy pickings which explains why you looked like shit."  
"Jacko," Paddy said.  
"It's the truth!"  
"It is the truth," agreed Loki. "But no. I must make a choice. A difficult choice." He gazed into the red, flickering flames and absently gulped down a bit more of the beer.  
"Sounds serious," Paddy prompted gently, glancing at Jacko quickly.  
"Yes," Loki frowned, his mouth twisting downwards bitterly.

_Two paths. Two hels. The question is which hel I will be better able to endure. This moronic festival with the crowing, patronizing Midgardians I would rather decimate or life on the road with no possible protection and a certain, slow, painful descent into unconsciousness._

"Sounds like you don't have much of a choice friend," Jacko finally said after a long pause.

Loki glanced up, eyes wide as he realized that the circle around him were staring at him with wide, uncertain and yet sympathetic eyes. _Did I just say all that aloud?_ Loki's fingers curled in to bite his palm, opening the new scabs which had hardened from his last self-inflicted cuts. For a moment, the sharp pain brought a clarity and he felt like he could feel everything in that moment from the heat of the fire on his face, the cold at his back, the metal between his fingers, the slick blood on his other palm.

"Between a rock and a hard place, some would say," Paddy nodded. "But I think I know where I'd want to be."  
"Yeah, I'm hearing you," Bobby nodded. "Home. All the way."  
"I still go back, sometimes," Jacko finally admitted. "My brother. Younger brother. He and his wife gather the family up for a dinner. I go then. Free booze and cigs and a chance to rub shoulders. It was hard when Dad was there, but still... really... nice..."  
"You're lucky," Barker snorted. "It's just me now. Same for you, right, Emile. We'll probably end up going to the local community dinner on Christmas Day in the evening. Have to sit through some damn recital, but the food is good."  
"Yeah..." Emile agreed, vacantly.

For a moment there was silence.

"It's that time of year, Looney. That time of year when ya wish you could go back. Even if there's no one," Paddy finally said softly. "Ya wish there was. For a moment. If ya're honest with yerself. Not a Christmas goes by that I wish things could be different. Wish I could be a better man to the wife and the kids. Once, I used to come by with something small for them. Hoping. Hoping that things would change. I would change. I couldn't. Eventually, there was nothing for me to return to. They just... couldn't take it anymore."

Loki didn't say anything. His eyes were filled with flames – but not so empty. Rather, they seemed to be far away, as though memory had stolen the ex-God away. Paddy wondered what Loki was thinking. It was hard to believe that the very being who had caused so much death and mayhem could look so lost. So tired.

"So, it's Christmastime. Well. Not Christmas, exactly," Paddy amended. "But close enough. And if ya have family, if ya can go back. Go back now. Don't get stuck here with folk like us. Don't get stuck in this kind of life. Way I hear it, you've got family here. On Earth. Yer brother, Thor, right?"

Remembering. Remembering the Winter Solstices he had shared with Thor. Thor. Boisterous, loud, egregarious, generous with everything. The sun to his moon. The light to his shade. So bright, so burning in everything he did. Unthinking in everything. Nothing settled. Nothing matured. Nothing certain. Loki had risked everything to stop such a mercurial leader wreck the Asgard he had come to love (_even though they could never understand him, no, Loki, you never could be fully accepted for who and what you are, but that was no matter, no matter, until the end, when it did matter_) – and he had been burned for it. A falling star swallowed back up in the native darkness which had birthed it. _But then, I did deserve it... did I not?_

But even then, Thor returned. Thor returned, his broad hands to clutch at Loki. _Never letting me go. Never letting me go. Even now. Even when his hands fall away, his voice and his promises still cling..._ Loki shivered.

"Thor," Jacko murmured. "I remember seeing his picture in the news. With Iron Man and Captain America. Loki's older brother."  
"Not my brother," Loki replied automatically. "Never was."  
"Blood ain't everything," Paddy replied calmly. "Out of the two choices, would you rather run to something or run to nothing?"

_Run to nothing... I tried that. And even then, there in the nothingness, there was some kind of existence which I had not thought possible. Awareness. Painful awareness drifting in the blackness and then falling from Realm to Realm, until you staggered into his – no – we don't speak his name – he'll hear us and come for us and then we will know nothing but something more awful than pain. No – I tried to run to nothing. But neither do I wish to run to folly._

"He can't go back to his home planet or whatever?" asked Barker curiously. "Don't he got a Dad or Mom or nuthin'?"

_Father. Not-father. All-Father. Not-All-Father. Not mine. Not where it matters._ Loki thought tiredly. _But..._ And the thought crept in, insidiously. The word he had been trying to forget for the last thousand years. _Mother._ The word he sometimes cried out when he collapsed under the not-so-tender ministrations of the Dark Elves. _Thor. Mother. _

And he was there again. Remembering his mother's eyes when he stood before All-Father's throne, when he stood before the Court, when he ignored the voices. When he glanced upward just swiftly, for a second and met her eyes. Saw nothing but sadness and regret. He had wanted to say something, but the gag was not removed from his lips during the entire proceedings and the stitching was performed within the day. _Asgardian. Swift Asgardian justice. In the ends, my actions spoke for me more than my words. And can I blame them? _

_But here is your chance, Loki. Here's your chance to go to a place that is trying to call itself your home. To Thor, if no one else. It is not like you are not pathetic anyways. Crawl back and beg like the animal you are, and when his heart melts, use it as a ladder to climb. You can pull yourself out of this – it is merely a matter of survival._

"I'm just sayin' that they should make concessions," Paddy was saying when Loki pulled away from his thoughts and focussed on his friends.  
"Ha! Pardon Loki? That'll be the day," Jacko snorted. "Our politics may be nuthin' but shit, but the UN ain't that crazy. Neither is yer regular Joe Blow."

Loki had to agree with the man. _Although, I have seen more foolishness in the Nine Realms and beyond than I would have liked to see already. _

"Well, ya can stay the night and think on it," Paddy offered.

Eyes darting around the circle, Loki straightened as he realized that the others were staring back at him with calm acceptance. _Yes. More seasonal foolishness. But this is something I can not put off indefinitely. You already made your choice, Loki. _He rose, suddenly feeling more tired than ever.

"I thank you again for your hospitality," Loki replied with a quick smile. He nodded with a slight tip of his head which reminded the men once again that they were in the presence of royalty, albeit tarnished in respectablity. "However, I feel I must press on. Perhaps I needed to hear it, even from those who are lowest among the lowest creatures of the Nine Realms. Should I achieve my dreams of bloody vengeances, I will spare the rain of destruction from falling upon your already hapless heads."  
"Uh, thanks," Jacko grinned. "Be sure to pop in for a beer. Whenever."  
"Perhaps I may," Loki nodded again and turned away, slipped away back into the shadows with lissome grace and the men sat down uncomfortably and stared at each other.

"Think it's OK to just let him leave like that?" asked Bobby, his eyes concentrated on the shadows for any sign of Loki, but it seemed as though the ex-God of Lies had not lingered. "He's not entirely all there, if you know what I mean."  
"Yeah, that man smells bananas to me a mile off," Emile nodded.  
Paddy chuckled and shook his head. "You'd say that, Emile. Of course."  
"It's a good question though, Pad."  
"I wouldn't worry about it, Jacko." Paddy hesitated. "I hope he decides to go back home though. For his own sake. You can see it in his eyes. He's too young for all this. Too young. Too old."  
"But what if he's like me?" Barker asked. "What if he's got no home?"  
"He's got a brother," Jacko replied slowly. "Maybe he's got a home. Just doesn't know it yet."  
"What kind of idiot doesn't –"  
"Sometimes it's hard to see the forest for the trees," Emile interrupted Barker with a thoughtful smile on his face. "I wonder what he decided."  
"We'll find out soon enough," Paddy shrugged. "The news'll say something if he tries to leave New York."

Pause.

"You think he's joking about raining destruction on New York?" Barker wondered aloud. "Think we should narc on him?"  
"You've said stupider things," Jacko snorted.  
"He's kind," Paddy tipped his head. "In his own way. Let'im be. He'll find his way."

-0-0-0-

Loki stood outside the building and then after a moments pause, returned the way he came, down the same alley. Still empty. Still filled with rubbish. Down the now darkly shadowed alleyway. The sun had begun to set in earnest. He came out onto the street. It flowed there, before his feet. Two currents. With a deep, heavy-hearted sigh, he stepped forward.

He had chosen.

* * *

**What has Loki chosen? Have the homeless made an impact on his heart? At all? What will Thor and Iron Man do? Dun dun dun... **


	16. No Matter How Far You Roam

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 16  
No Matter How Far You Roam

"Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays  
'Cause no matter how far away you roam  
If want to be happy in a million ways  
For the holidays, you can be home sweet home."  
(There's No Place Like Home For the Holidays – sung by the Carpenters)

"Well..." Tony finally said, for the second time that season, at a loss for words (and if a miracle happens twice, what do you call that?) "That was..."  
"Tony Stark," Thor muttered. "I feel as though we have all underestimated my brother sorely. Once again."  
"Yeah. And here I thought I'd be over feeling like a dick." Tony stared down as Loki made his way over to the bus stop and waited. "How're we gonna handle this? We don't want to get into a fight over this. If we mess this up, Fury is going to kill us and then kill us dead. 'Tasha will do something unspeakable to our balls and this is going to sound crazy coming from me, seeing as my second name would probably be Action Man. No. Scratch that. Too tacky. Just thinking we should surprise the other Avengers and actually think this throughhh..." Tony trailed off as he turned and realized that Thor had already landed on the pavement below and was striding over to his brother.

Loki, catching sight of his brother, edged away and then, his face tightening, turned and broke into a run only to be brought roughly down onto the pavement with a hard tackle. He thrashed wildly, trying to pry his older brother off him, cursing in some Nordic language. Tony, landing by the two (_but not too close. Only an idiot gets between the two. Everyone on earth with a brain stem knows that_), shook his head.

_Perhaps he thinks Thor is going to punish him. Really? Who'd think that? OK, so Point Break has a thing for crushing stuff with his hammer, but everyone knows he has a disposition more like a small puppy. Or maybe there's other stuff going on here. Goodness knows what went on in those prisons he was carted to and from._ Once again, watching as Loki hands closed into fists as his face scrunched up with tears of frustration and rage beading at the corners of his eyes, Tony felt something sour fill his mouth. _Corruption happens everywhere, and judging by Reindeer Game's response to Bruce's care and his brother here... I'd lay easy money that Asgardian justice demanded too high a price. Loki's exactly the type to end up as someone's snarky bitch – but in the end, he's going to make them pay. He's going to make us all pay. Is this justice? Is this the justice we wanted? Something that breaks a man irreparably until he has no way back home... _

"Loki! Loki!"

Thor's hoarse cry broke into Tony's thoughts abruptly. Moving forward and yelling at the quickly gathering crowd of people to stand back and give him room, the Iron Man knelt by the God of Thunder and looked down at the seizing body of Loki. Laying his hand on the twitching muscles and arching back wasn't a option. He had tried that once two and a half months ago when he goaded Loki a little two much and the ex-God's fist had connected painfully with the shoulder of his armour. Connected painfully for Loki. No sooner had his fist put a dent into Tony's armour, the ex-God had ended up curling up like an electrified butterfly in the small alleyway, his cries of desperation echoing bleakly off the high walls surrounding him.

Loki knew that he had an audience. His green eyes, wide and terrified, were trying to focus on Thor's face but when his lips were finally wrenched open with another full-body spasm which caused his back to bow, fingers to contort and legs to tremble... he could only expel breathy gasps of pain which escalated to full on cries of pain.

"What did he do?" Tony asked, eyes flying to Thor, noticing a purple bruise forming on the blonde's jaw. "Oh shit. He actually bruised you. It's worse if he causes physical bodily injury. JARVIS – alert Bruce! Get him over here! Fast!"  
"On it already, sir," JARVIS's smooth voice couldn't settle down Tony's queasiness.

Tony glanced around and his brown eyes hardened as he realized that quite a few people were calmly recording the entire scene on their smartphones. Loki lips were bitten through, no doubt from witholding further humiliating cries, but one word slipped out. Brother. One of the guys was laughing. _This is not OK. He's bastard. A maniac. A lunatic. He deserves to feel the pain he put people through, but not like this. _

"Hey you there!" Tony said seriously, waving at the guy and the others. "Lay off it, 'kay?"  
"What are you talking about, man?" laughed another. "You know who he is?"  
"Do I look stupid or not the Iron Man to you?" Tony raised his helmet coolly. "Of couse, I know who it is. I was the one who got an up close and personal interview with the crazy bastard. And I'm asking you again – stop it. Seriously. Stop filming and delete it."  
"Are you nuts?" giggled a girl. "This is pure gold."

Tony, leaning forward, grabbed the young teen's phone and crunched the metal between his fingers like it was plastic.

"Hey! What are you doing, man? Uncool!"  
"Sue me," Tony said. "You have no idea what Loki is all about – so just leave us the hell alone."  
"Is he crying?" asked a small girl. "Why can't he stop?"  
"Hey, how old is she?" Tony whipped around to glare at a sturdy looking woman who looked a little uncertain. "What kind of mother are you to let your kids see something this? You want your kid to become some kind of sadist? Geez. This is messed up."

The woman, grabbing her kid's hand, scurried off and most of the onlookers drifted away, talking to each other in low voices. _Aw, hell._ Tony squeezed his eyes shut as Loki managed to catch his breath. _Let it be over. If it keeps dragging on, YouTube's going to crash with the uploads and stuff. SHIELD is going to have so much fun doing damage control... Where the hell is Bruce?_

"Do you think we can pick him up now?" Thor looked up, blue eyes showing how his heart had torn up seeing his young brother punished with such cruel public humiliation. "We need to get him home as soon as possible, I fear for my brother's sanity if he were to remain here."  
"Not yet," Tony shook his head. "This is... bad... It's like – you read Harry Potter? No, I guess it's not like Barnes and Nobles can just syndicate over into Asgard. Well, anyways. I'd say Cruciatus Curse, but that'd mean nothing to you. Touching is bad. No touchy. Bruce, when he gets here, can give him stuff."  
"I do not understand," Thor said, bewildered. "I merely tackled him as was habit when we were children together. He became a wild thing – and this was merely an act of defense. He was... afraid. How could he be afraid... of me?"  
"Thor."

Tony paused, worked his mouth, trying to think of what to say to the man. Obviously, the blonde-haired, brawny God had never experienced the ultimate moment of weakness. _Or maybe... _He remembered something he had read in a file a while back – something about a failed attack for Mjolnir.

"Thor," Tony knelt by Loki's head across from Thor, watching the slender pale hands' twitching slowly reduce to a constant tremble. Loki's eyes had fallen closed for a moment and Tony wondered if the ex-God had fallen unconscious. _I would want to._ "Have you ever had a moment where you thought you'd die? Where you felt so weak and overpowered? When you felt defeated?"  
"Hm. I have been gifted with power and luck," Thor finally admitted. "Rarely have I ever felt this way – but there were some times – when I was cast from the Bifrost and felt the frailty of the mortal. For a few minutes. And then, when Mjolnir failed to come to me. When it no longer answered my call... I felt like nothing. It was momentary, in reality, but those memories can never be, should never be forgotten."  
"I think, Loki felt something like that – in the prison. And when you tackled him from behind, it probably... felt like an attack. From before. We call it PTSD – when you get flashbacks and you can't help yourself but panic and lash out. I experienced it a bit. Could've been worse, if I didn't have Rhodey and Pepper there for me."  
"You hit Lady Pepper?" Thor's blue eyes widened.  
"No," Tony rolled his eyes. "No, no, not really. I did other things though. Self-destructive things. Sometimes, I drank too much. Sometimes I abused myself, working too much. Driving myself into danger. Loki's going to go through all of that. And it's worse. No offence, but for a while, the only cheerleader on Team Loki is gonna be you, Thor."  
"You said something similar earlier."  
"Yes. Well, it's kinda important."  
"Tony! Thor!" Bruce was hopping out of a car with Steve in tow, medical kit as usual in hand. "You got Loki. Oh hell. Now what."  
"He's not hurting himself again," Tony hastened to explain. "Well, yes, he hurt himself by doing something he knew wasn't going to go down well. But he didn't hurt hurt himself, if you know what I mean. That is, he kinda socked Thor and, well, I don't know if you've seen what happens but it's bad – and if you wanna see the whole thing, I'm sure if you checked online, it's trending Twitter and YouTube as we speak."  
"This is not good," Steve knelt by Loki.

Green eyes fluttered open again and comprehension began to filter in. He rolled awkwardly onto his left side, avoiding Thor's regretful gaze, and pulled his knees up, in an attempt to push himself to his knees. Loki's arms didn't seem like they could support him, his fingers clenching again and unclenching spasmodically on the grey pavement. Dark hair fell forward as his head bent under the weight of the pain of across his shoulders. Strands stuck to his drawn face now streaked with sweat, tears and some drool. Bruce winced.

_He's going to be so cheerful to hang about with after this. Look out, guys. Having an uptight psychopath around is sure going to put the crazy into our Christmas. _

Steve's hands immediately went to Loki's shoulders, attempting to help the dark-haired ex-God up. However, no sooner did Steve's hands grip the thin shoulders, a new wave of spasms hit Loki and the ex-God curled in on himself again, a long moan of pain issuing from pale lips. Unintelligible curses left his lips and Loki managed to relax after a few seconds and exhaling a long sobbing breath, he tried to find his way to his hands and knees.

It was painful to watch. Like watching someone flay themselves. Peeling off their skin. Like watching a cripple attempt a marathon. So Tony said nothing. Bruce said nothing, instead rooting around for some muscle relaxant.

"What is this medicine, Son of Banner?" Thor asked as Banner pulled out a water bottle and a few pills. "Ah... Jane gave me one of these before."  
"Valium," Bruce said briefly. "It's gonna hit him hard. Twenty minutes, I give him. Half an hour tops. Take these."

Loki couldn't open the water bottle, so Thor untwisted the cap for him and set the pills carefully into the pale palm which opened shakily. Once he managed to get the pills past his chattering teeth, Loki accepted Thor's assistance to lift the water bottle, weakly glaring at his older brother as he choked down some of the water. When he was done, he leaned managed to ease back into a less tight foetal position.

"Can we pull him into the alley? Get him away from everyone?" asked Steve. "I don't like how people keep stopping. If we aren't careful, he's going to end up on the, uh, Internet."  
"Yeah, too late for that, Rock of Ages. Points for finally saying Internet right, though," Tony sighed. "Maybe if we just pull him by Thor's jacket into the alley, and not touch his body –"  
"Let's try it," Bruce said hurriedly.

Carefully, they manoeuvred Loki into the alleyway and after twenty minutes passed, (during which Steve stood guard, Bruce wrapped another coat around Loki's thin shoulders, Tony ran three doors down to get some Starbucks for everyone), Thor experimentally laid a hand on Loki's shoulder again. Bruce moved back to give the two brothers a quiet moment. Tony strolled up, glanced at the two heads which bent close together and turned to Bruce with a quiet "What's up?" to which Bruce responded with, "Not yet, but soon." Thor's blonde hair contrasted sharply with Loki's longer, darker locks as the brothers leaned a little closer together, Thor's hand now curled at Loki's neck (a habit born over thousands of years, Tony guessed) pressing against Bruce's dark grey scarf.

"Give them a moment," Tony said, noticing that Steve was half-prepared to join them. "Let's see if we can get Loki to return under his own steam."  
"You think he'll seriously return of his own free will after this? Wait. You get why he left?" Steve asked. "Did we make him feel uncomfortable? Or is this some sort of plot that we'll have to figure out?"  
"Uhhh... No. We made an educated guess. Point Break and I kinda anticipated what he was up to and our worst fears were realized. Well, worse fears, not so much but –"  
"What did he do?" Bruce asked, his brown eyes filled with tension and worry.

Tony knew how he felt. Somewhere between angry at Loki and angry for Loki. _A rock and a hard place – and totally shitty. _

"You wouldn't believe it. Helped some homeless people," Tony shook his head and began to hand out the coffee cups. "Here. Black. Black. Black and more black."  
"Black?" Steve sniffed his coffee with a grimace.  
"Verbana blonde for you, sissy pants," Tony grinned. "And for Thor, so you don't feel lonely. Dark roasts for us manly, manly men. Yeah. Totally gave the cash to some homeless dudes – the same ones he met after dumpster diving. I didn't think Reindeer Games would so eagerly imbibe the reformed Scrooge Christmas spirit. But he did."  
"I can't believe it."  
"Yeah, well, Steve. Neither can I. But I saw it with my own eyes." Tony shrugged and sipped the coffee with a deep sigh of contentment. "At any rate, Loki wasn't caught red-handed doing something criminal – if you don't count stealing from Pepper. Which isn't good. We'll have to talk about that with him. He'll probably get all annoyed and threaten to disembowel us with plastic forks or something. And well, I can reimburse her for that, no problem. Hell, I could sleep on a bed made of money stacks if I wanted to... Anyways, Loki wasn't planning anything, not anything evil this time around. Clint is gonna be so bummed. So maybe Thor can get him to come around."  
"Clint?" asked Bruce, confused.  
"No, Loki. Obviously. The day Clint accepts Loki into our band of merry men is the day hell freezes over."  
"I don't think Asgardian hell is hot."  
"Haha." Tony snarked.  
"Hey guys, this has already been a long day," Steve sighed. "Let's not make it worse."  
"What are you talking about? It's almost over," Tony assured his friend. "I don't know about you, but for some reason, I have a good feeling about this."  
"You're jinxing it." Bruce shook his head, sipping some coffee and glaring at his friend. "Again."

* * *

**We'll see what Thor and Loki are talking about in the next chapter. :) Sorry for ending it here, but I just had to. Natural breaks. Usually I write longer chapters, but writing something for each night can be a bit heavy. Hahaha. But soon, soon, my exam marks will be collated, my tutoring times will settle into routine again, my lesson planning for a winter English camp will be done and my apartment will be cleaned... and I can sit down to write up even more. **

**Let me know what you think! (teary eyes) Please rec it and share the Christmas love with your friends!**


	17. There's No Place Like Home

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Reply to Guest Reviewers

Reader: Thanks! I'm glad you're still hanging in there and enjoying my fic, even though my fic is rapidly going out of season. LOL. This is what happens when you start late, I guess...

**Hope your New Year is awesome! Keep up the awesome comments! They're so encouraging and help me keep on track and focussed and motivated!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 17  
There's No Place Like Home

"If you want to be happy in a million ways  
For the holidays, you can be home sweet home."  
(There's No Place Like Home For the Holidays – sung by the Carpenters)

Traffic rumbled past. A cold wind had started up again, promising to bring more snow and sleet to the grey city which tried to keep itself cheery in the face of depressing weather by gaily decorating the shops and homes with lights and garlands. People pushed past him, getting on and off the city's transports. Beneath his feet, the grey stone had been cleared of the snow and was now inexplicably sanded or salted – underneath his thin shoes, it felt rough and gritty. Hunching futher into his borrowed – _stolen – well, now borrowed_ – coat, Loki sighed, exhaling a cloud of frosty breath.

His decision had been made. He knew then that from that moment on, the hel that he had chosen would remain hel, but at least that was a cage he had chosen. Odin nor Thor had made up his mind for him. _That is what matters, if there must be some meaning to this Norn-forsaken life_, his lips twisted wryly. So here, he was, standing at the transport way station which would slowly return him back to the Tower he would have to accept as home. In the quiet moments as he waited, ignoring the bustle around him, Loki considered the two options which had lain before him.

_...__would you rather run to something or run to nothing?_

_Not so much of an option, really._ His mind was more or less made up. How decided he was, the firmness of his resolve faded when he turned, caught sight of Thor who didn't look too happy - and when he glanced up and saw the Ironman looking down from a high vantage point on the building behind him. _How many of them had been stalking him and for how long?_ The possible answers to that question filled his heart with cold fear. Loki turned and ran. Like a spineless worm, a gutless coward, he turned and ran and ran - and he didn't get far. He didn't get further than a few feet before his brother's hands on his shoulders dragged him down like a berserk hunter would wrestle his prey to the ground bare-handed.

It was Thor, but for a moment, bone deep panic, which ran through his innermost being (_stamped into his very bones_), told him that it wasn't Thor. It was a gaurd looming over him as he backed into a corner of his cell. It was a hound of Svartalheim. It was a Dark Elf, with black hair, pale skin and dark eyes, stalking him, chasing him down until he finally collapsed from exhaustion. He scrabbled along the cutting rocks, hands bloodied as he attempted to get back on his feet. There was nothing in the world but his pain, his exhaustion and his harsh breath rattling from a too dry throat.

And Loki the worm, Loki the coward, Loki the ant crushed under the boot of Fate (_if he had been more coherent, he would have laughed at the irony_), this Loki turned, struggled, flailed, pushed and fought as he always had done. _Struggled, flailed, pushed and fought and lost. Always losing. Always falling. Always failing._ When his fist made contact, he felt relief for a moment as the weight drew away.

Then, it had came crashing down – the sickening realization of what he had done followed hard by what was to come. Loki was not disappointed. Once again, for the second time that week, fire ran through his veins and electricity through his muscles and his vision tunneled and darkened as his world exploded with painful black and purples and stabbing flares of red and sound. From far away, he could hear voices and laughter and he twisted, vision barely registering worried blue eyes and rows of faces. He needed to get away. Wanted to crawl back to the pit from which he had been dragged - but his body betrayed him and another wave ran through him as he cursed the mortals who were no doubt finding humour at his expense.

He was overwhelmed then and at some point he heard himself crying out, just barely able to bite back the words which so often had risen to his lips before. "Brother!"_ Mother._ And in extreme moments where he thought he would be lost forever - _Father_.

Time passed slowly. Agony compounded with each second which trickled by oh too slowly. Then, as if it was an ocean tide, the pain ebbed and withdrew from his convulsing limbs. And the world returned in slow pieces of sound and smell and touch. Realization set in.

The cold ground under his fingers was flat and rough and also salted. The air smelled of oil and dirt and fresh fallen snow. And his brother was talking with others above his head. The familiar patter of the Ironman sank in dully. Words with no meaning. There was more pain as he tried to move again. _Not to run. Never to run._ There was nothing to run away to. No bridge from which to fall. No Void to beckon him. Loki's legs – _he had legs now_ – moved and his hands scrabbled against the grey.

Hands attempted to help, to brace him - and for a moment, his personal hel returned but it eventually, it once again passed and when he came to, there was a broad palm before his face with small, white, miniscule balls in his hand. Loki had studied enough of healing and alchemy to know what it was. _Midgardian medicine._ The white round medicants in his hands didn't inspire him with confidence but Thor's familiar rough voice and soothing mother tongue calmed him down enough to take what had been offered to him. There was a surge of hate when he realjzed he would have to rely on his brother (_yet again - again - when will this stop? Loki, you have to make it stop..._) for aid to drink. However, glaring at the man was too exhausting. Emotions tired him out nowadays, burning too brightly and quickly, a far cry from the he of long ago. When it was his clear-headed thinking and discernment which had saved them time and time again.

Lying there dazed, Loki heard voices. Planning what to do with him no doubt. There was more than likely a cell prepared for him with his name on the door. Gentle hands tugged on his clothing and Loki found himself slid and half carried to yet another _Norn-forsaken_ alley. For a moment, the movement brought back the world of grey and pain, but when Loki's vision cleared, he was propped up against a red brick wall, wrapped in yet another coat.

A man with glasses and an inscrutable expression wavered into view. _Banner's Son. The Beast. No doubt here on the same charity mission as his - as my brother. _Loki wondered tiredly if it was possible to choke on gratitude. _Gratitude to the very people who crushed him and made him yet again, less than nothing. No, not him. Me. Me._ Loki had tasted fear at the hands of a mere Midgardian, a mere mortal and now he was nothing. _Not even 'mere'. And to these people, to this man who made mockery of who I was, I must show gratitude. That is what they have told me to be, Norn knows how long. If I wiped their existence out so that the world was nothing but a great, blank slate..._ _Even then, there would remain the memory of what they did for Loki. For me._ _Shaming us. Pouring on guilt with their indestructible ghosts of memories. You will never forget, Loki_, he sighed to himself. _But at least today, you were able to pay one small debt of gratitude._

He glared at his hands now laying on his knees which were folded underneath him. Hands with no strength as they lay there still uncontrollably twitching. _By the Norns, I am so tired... But there was no rest._ There still remained Thor. He could see the God of Thunder had many things to question him on, but once again his older br - _Thor, Thor, Thor,Thor, Thor, Thor_ – he willed his errant mind to stop. _Thor did not push._ A large hand stole up to tuck back an errant lock of hair and Loki found himself inexplicably wanting to press against it. To feel that grip which would never let him go. To draw on the strength he never had in the end.

_Because you are weak, Loki. Weak. Spineless. Cowardly. Puny. Flailing at Fate. Unable to face the reality of existence. Letting go. Running away. Lying to yourself. _

_Look in the mirror, Loki, and see yourself for who you really are. What you must have seen in your blood father's face when he slid out of your mother's womb a sickly runt and a shame to the House of Laufey. What you saw in your father's face when you clung to your brother like weak, spoiled child unable to face his own actions. Worse than Thor. Worse than nothing._

"Brother," Thor's voice was soft but easily heard as his brother drew closer again.

Loki found he couldn't meet Thor's eye.

"Do you feel a little better? The Son of Banner said the medicants would take their time to settle in your body."  
"It is... tolerable," Loki whispered back.

Thor's hand appeared and covered Loki's trembling ones, offering warmth and Loki bent forward almost automatically. His cheek felt cold against the back of Thor's hand. A long-lasting habit kicking in as he was left with nothing but memory. Thor rubbed his back and Loki, eyes closed, remembered suddenly his brother holding him up from his own vomit as his body fought the toxins of the poisonous water serpent they had just slaughtered together. _Just like the old times._ Loki forced himself to sit up again.

"I am glad," Thor hesitated, then added: "Glad we could find you again. Glad to find you well. We wish to return with you. Return home – well, perhaps you cannot see Son of Stark's tower as your home, but nevertheless, we offer its comforts to you. Can you not find it in your heart to accept this arrangement... only until such a time as when the snow departs and the rains fall in the spring?"

Stiffly, Loki gave a curt nod and his eyes opened again, suddenly more focussed. Sharp and hard as glass, cutting and brittle, giving on quarter.

"What other choice do I have?" he asked softly.  
"You could walk away from here, a free man," Thor replied, frowning. "We do not wish you to be prisoner - but safe, Loki."  
"Walk? Walk to where?"  
"To wherever your heart desires" was the simple answer.

Loki wheezed suddenly, more of a cough than a laugh. Something like a grin (_but no, it could not be laughter or joy because those green eyes were so empty and the teeth were gritted like a mad dog_) crossed his face. His jaw was set and stiff - Thor wondered if his brother suffered from a headache thanks to the sheer tension thrumming through the underfed body.

Loki gritted out. "I am nothing. I desire nothing. I can go nowhere."

There. _He had admitted it. I have admitted it._

"Loki," Thor's voice was heavy with grief and automatically his hand rose to comfort his brother as he had so many thousands of times in the thousands of years they had lived together. His right hand rose and clasped his brother, fingers pressing Banner's Son's grey scarf close to the chill cheekbones.

The eyes raised to him were still cutting and sharp, yet oddly remote and empty, as though Loki's very soul had become glass and nothing lay beyond but an empty mind. Thor's thumb ran along Loki's cheekbone, down his thin cheeks and along his jaw – and he could see, as if from far away, a small awakening in the mind of the being before him known as Little Brother. Something passed over Loki's expressive face, deep and curious and so foreign (_it had been far too long_). Yearning.

"There is always a place for you, little brother." Thor spoke, now feeling more confident as he watched the words sink like rain into the parched soil of Loki's mind. _Give me wisdom..._ "At my side, by my side, as my equal. I would have it no other way."  
"You are a fool."  
"Perhaps," Thor smiled. "But a happy one if you are with me. A safe one. A wiser one."  
"I am not sorry for what I did," Loki finally said. "They cannot accept me back, Thor. I spent the money and I cannot return it to them so easily."  
"I know." A pause. "But, irregardless, the Avengers will. Perhaps not so easily, but their intentions and their oaths hold firm."  
"Then, they are even more foolish than you."  
"We would have it no other way," Thor replied firmly. "Just like those men to whom you owed a debt of thanks. The ones you aided tonight. What they offered to you, what you offered to them, we offer as well."  
"I merely repaid a debt, Thor - and I do not wish to owe you nor the mortals any more than I must. There is nothing I can give."  
"Your plans."  
"I would rather die than surrender my future, my freedom and my vengeance for a warm bed and food," snarled Loki softly. "I may not be the son of Odin, nor the accepted son of Laufey – but I have my pride if nothing else."  
"You do not need your vengeance," Thor said softly. "And I have discovered that pride is nothing but a wall between the people you love and protect. Your future and freedom and holding fast to the truth of yourself... That is what you truly desire, Loki."  
"Do not. Presume... To tell me what I desire," Loki hissed back, the thin corded muscles and tendons of his neck standing out starkly as he tried to draw away. "I am – I am –"

_I am nothing. I could not even rise to be your equal._ He found he could not say it. Not looking into Thor's blue eyes. Not recalling his mother's face. Not remembering his Father's eyes on the Bifrost Bridge.

"You are Loki," Thor said softly. "Loki Odinson. Loki Laufeyson. Prince of Asgard. Prince of Jotunheim. My brother."  
"I am not your brother," Loki said. "I have not been for a long time now. Loki Odinson died on the Bifrost Bridge when he fell into the Abyss. You should accept that, as I have."  
"Loki."  
"Leave me."  
"I cannot. Even if the Loki I knew died in the Void, I want to know this new Loki. This new Loki who is as smart, as cunning, as generous... As powerful. As skilled. As lonely... as the one I knew. I wish to understand, such as my slow wits will allow. I would have you come home. As you are."

Loki's green eyes held Thor's, so closely they sat together, he could see nothing else but Thor's gaze. Those eyes which could hardly hide a lie for long. Eyes which were quick to sparkle with anger as much as joy and laughter. He had always known Thor's heart. And this time, Thor was looking at him.

"I do not think you can understand. Ever. I do not think you will accept in the end." He tilted his head and sighed. "Nevertheless, the Thor I knew and loved and hated never did learn much unless it be through heroic deeds and fruitless escapades," Loki smiled bitterly. "Whatever I say, you cannot believe as it is or appears to be. You stand, as ever, in front of the ramparts of an empty castle and you will beat your fists bloody against the door. Do not blame me, brother, when you find that, on breaking through the walls, there is no reward for you."

Thor smiled then as he acknowledged his brother's reluctant acqueisance. _Does he realize what he said?_ It was a quiet smile, slow and blinding to Loki as the breaking dawn. _He called me brother. Again._ Loki's gaze flitted away as realization settled in and Thor smiled at his brother's uncertainty. _You think yourself an empty fortress with nothing to offer, little brother. You see nothingness in yourself. You see yourself as the empty Void. But that is the furthest from the truth. In time, I will find that long-forgotten treasure and remind you of who you used to be..._

Loki's hand rose then, to touch his cheek, eyes wide with mild shock and wonder. His bony finger tips glistened with wet and worrying his lip, Loki frowned as was his wont when he saw something he could not comprehend.

"You are crying, br – Thor," he blinked up at Thor.

Thor smiled even wider and drew his brother into a close embrace. His voice muffled, he snorted as his arms tightened around the jerking, tense shoulders of his younger brother. After a second, Loki stopped wriggling and let his brother be.

"Of course, I am, empty-headed half-wit," Thor replied fondly, drawing back to gently cuff Loki on the back of his head. "You are coming home."

He gave his brother a look. That look of 'this isn't over, though'. Loki sighed.

This would be a long winter season.

* * *

**UPCOMING: SECRET SANTA MADNESS! CHRISTMAS PREPARATION! GROUND RULES ARE LAID OUT! And Loki takes further steps in his reluctant rehabilitation (of a sorts).**

**Let me know what you think~  
**


	18. What We Want – We Can't Always Get

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Sorry for the wait guys! My bad! It was New Years Eve and etc. And I ended up at a friends house (with no laptop) having fajitas and stuff (I successfully made hand-made tortillas for the first time by myself!). (which was awesome) But then I watched this movie called New Years Eve, some kind of American version of Love Actually. (which was not awesome) And I skipped out Pitch Perfect (I can only take so much pop culture in one evening) and rung in the new year, reading. Reading and texting my hostess friend who was in the next room watching Pitch Perfect. So awesome.**

**Also, thanks to said hostess friend (who is a Hawkeye fan) – she was the one who helped me do the Secret Santa Avengers draw. We wrote up a list of the names, got a hat, threw in pieces of paper and drew for each character. Who got whom will be revealed over time. BUT IT WAS ENTIRELY RANDOM and Emily and I brainstormed a ton of things that will pop up in later chapters!  
**

**THANKS EMILY! YOU ROCK!  
**

**As for this chapter... WHERE DID THE HUMOUR GO? I KILLED MY HUMOUR! GAH! Hopefully it'll be funnier in the following chapters. Still trying to pull Loki out of his funk. Super hard.**

**Thanks for all the reviews so far! Please review! It helps me know I'm on the right track! OR not...**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 18  
What We Want – We Can't Always Get

"All I want for Christmas  
is my two front teeth."  
("All I Want For Christmas (Is My Two Front Teeth) – sung by Spike Jones)

Earlier...

"OK, we're pulling names for Secret Santa," Pepper explained carefully for those who weren't familiar (read: Thor and Loki). "The name of the person you draw is the person you have to get a gift for. And you aren't supposed to tell anyone -"  
"Hence why the name has the word 'secret' in it," Tony had to insert there.  
"Yes, Tony." Pepper smiled indulgently. "We'll all draw names now. And if you need help, maybe you can ask JARVIS. Everyone should take the time to tell JARVIS what they'd like to get for Christmas and that'll help JARVIS tell the secret Santas some helpful hints."

She smiled sweetly at Tony who stepped forward, hat in hand. Eyes theatrically turned away, Steve hand began to swish through the small folded pieces of paper.

"Pick one, pick one! Ladies and gents, walk up and choose your destiny! Let the mortal combat begin!"  
"He said that it was a matter of gifts, did he not?" Loki murmured to Thor, edging closer to his brother as Steve reached in and lifted one out, opening it and nodding. Everyone in the loose circle took one, opened it and grunted.  
"Yes," Jane hastened to assure the two brothers. "He's just joking..."  
"You think he is," Bruce shook his head. "But Christmas is rather cutthroat, if you ask me."

Loki glanced at Thor apprehensively. _What kind of festival is this, Thor?_ The fool of course looked incredibly excited. _As usual, he rushes in where even greater beings do not fear to tread..._ Loki pushed down a memory of a better time - _we go to Jotunheim! - that fateful journey which changed everything..._ Frowning, he grudgingly accepted his slip of paper.

"Needless to say, if you choose your own name, throw it back in and choose another one. And no, Loki, you are not allowed to buy for yourself. You aren't exempt from the rule either. No gag gifts for the main gift. Is there a money limit, Pepper?"  
"A hundred dollars," Pepper eyed Loki thoughtfully. Noticing her glance, he lifted his chin and balefully gazed back at her.  
"No kidding," Clint snorted as he took his slip of paper. "Otherwise Stark would go overboard - okkayy.. Lets see... Awwwwwww... Fuuuuuucccckkkk! You gotta be kidding me! Is this your idea of a joke, Tony?"  
"Well, now we know who Clint got," Bruce said blandly.  
"Secret, Clint, secret!" Tony shook his head. "Isn't this like your job, where you pretend and do spy stuff? Kinda destroying your image here, bro."  
"Not a spy, Stark. Assassin. Lying isn't my thing. More like Loki's shtick," Clint shot back. "Can I switch out?"  
"No take backsies. Right, Pepper?"  
"Sorry, Clint," she shook her head regretfully.  
"That's just hecause none of you want to have him either! Except Thor."  
"Stop complaining," sighed Steve. "This is Christmas time and maybe a good chance for you to... Come to terms..."  
"Bullshit," Clint growled.  
"It's a season of miracles," Jane smiled softly, her hand slipping into Thor's. "I am sure something could happen, if you let the opportunities come."  
"Like a snowball's chance in hell I'm going to come 'to terms'. I don't care if it's Christmas, don't ask for the impossible."  
"Just let Christmas work its magic, Clint," Tony smiled infuriatingly. "We're looking forward to seeing what you come up with, aren't we, Loki?"

Loki did not rise to the bait. He had to agree with the archer. Privately agree. The Norns had to be laughing at him. He stared down at the name scrawled across the small slip of paper in the palm of his hand. Oh yes, this God of Mischief was in serious trouble.

-0-0-0-

Throughout the whole fiasco of repaying his debt, Loki had stashed away the small folded piece of paper with that name – that name he secretly feared. Stashed it away in the night table by his bed and forgotten it when he slipped out on his self-appointed mission. But now he was back. Back again in this prison not-prison. And he wondered if it was still there – but Loki turned his mind away from that and allowed himself to relax for the first time in a long time. _Just for a short time..._

For a moment, Loki lay there, content just to take in his surroundings and find some peace in the silence. In his isolation. Alone but not quite alone. It was comforting. A foreign feeling to him - it had been too long since he could rest knowing that no one was watching (_hahaha, Loki, of course they're watching. And laughing. But they won't gut you yet, not until they have given you enough rope to hang yourself with_) or at least not stalking him, waiting for a moment of weakness. He was alone. Again. The Man of Iron and his bro- _Thor, it was Thor - do not lie to yourself!_ - were not there.

Yet far away, he could hear their voices mumbling, rising and falling as the tower stirred to life on yet another morning. _The first day of the week?_ Loki wasn't sure. He had lived so far out of the reach of time, it was hard to conceive that any time had passed at all.

Without moving, his eyes wandered the room. Same room. Same long, wide bed complete with high quality bedding. Same long, wide windows. Same small wooden tables and a couple matching chairs. The door to the personal washroom. A sliding door which opened a door into a hidden wardrobe. It was empty.

Loki stirred. The sheets felt warm against his perpetually cool skin but not uncomfortably so. He rose slowly, propping himself first on his elbows, grunting a little as pain ran through him. _Not entirely healed yet_, he sighed. _This will be a much more painful process without my magic._ He tried not to think about that too much.

There were some clothes neatly laid out on the chair for him. A soft, thin, grey shirt which probably came from either the Soldier or the Beast. And some pants that were too baggy for him – long leathers which told him that they had belonged to Thor. Loki was tall like his brother, but his build was much slighter. Cinching the leather thongs a bit tighter, Loki tied the knots quickly as his anxiety sky-rocketed. _Where are my clothes?_

Silently easing his door open, Loki poked his head out of his room cautiously. Looked right and left and then, he slipped out and down the hallway, eyes darting around as his tension increased. Voices. Voices coming from somewhere. Following the sounds of something grinding, clattering, clinking, banging, and sizzling, the dark-haired god found himself in a large spacious cooking area. A far cry from the warm, rounded, cluttered pantries and cooking halls of the palace in Asgard, but still welcoming compared to the darkness of the Hole, the emptiness of the Void or the hard, hollowed out room in the cold rock when he was first captured, threatened and then seduce by – _forget that forget him – forget it forget it forget it_ -

A kitchen. His brother and Jane sat in a corner talking quietly together and sipping something hot. The Soldier was at the ovens, cracking open eggs into a black skillet. The Archer was frying some sort of meat. The red-haired Assassin was buttering toast and commenting on the Archer's cooking skills. Metal Man – _Iron Man_ – was pulling out orange juice and milk single-handedly while gulping down some sort of black liquid – _ah! Coffee. Yes._ Most mortals seemed to rely on that beverage. That or tea. Or alcohol. Tony was making himself another cup of coffee and also pulling out a bottle of something from the cupboard only to be stopped by his woman who gave him a look and told him to try to at least eat some toast. JARVIS was announcing the arrival of someone's McMuffins. The blonde woman was glaring at the Iron Man. The Iron Man looked innocent for all of three seconds before making a beeline for the elevator.

That's when they all saw Loki, standing there in the doorway.

Silence.

Heavy, suffocating, sudden silence. Loki's hands rose slowly, his fingers fiddling with each other, as he stiffened his back, raised his chin and tried to look nonchalant despite the fact everyone was looking at him like he was suddenly going to go for their throats. Inside his belly, a little curl of happiness rose at the fact that he could still bring fear to their hearts, even inadequately dressed, unarmed and with no magical abilities whatsoever. _Or perhaps it is not fear_, he shuffled back a little to rest against the corner near some kind of water machine, still staring back at them. _Perhaps it is merely dislike, such as what I met in Asgard._

"What killed the music?" It was Bruce. Finally shuffling in, looking like he had stayed up all night. "Oh. Hey." He waved at everyone and took the mug offered him by Tony. Full of delicious, warm, black coffee. Just the way he liked it. And his mug too. The one he had commandeered as his own ever since he had elected to stay at Stark Tower. Bruce took a sip and looked around. "Did I – uh – miss something?"

"No," Tony replied casually. "You know, usual morning madness followed by the not-so-usual entrance of Loki. I think we'll need to put on a whole lot more eggs, Steve. Hey, Loki. Good morning. That's what, you know, polite mortals say to each other when they greet each other at the time of the rising sun. Well, not the exact time of the rising sun. If you try to say good morning to me then, I'd probably try to kill you, but anyways, glad you could join us. Looking rather spiffy, I have to say – although it's pretty obvious that you are –"  
"Where are my clothes?" Loki finally said, fighting to keep his tone neutral, ignoring the unspoken prompt for civility.  
"Your clothes – oh – the rags that you –"  
"Tony," Pepper turned to her employer, friend and lover, giving him the eye. She turned to Loki, smile fixed firmly to her face and said, "They are at the dry-cleaners. Well, the leather coat is. The rest should be in the laundry room. Would you like to go shopping for other clothing –"  
"Those will do me fine," Loki lifted his chin. "As always."  
"Just that, Pepper and I think you've probably been wearing those things for, well, way too long –"  
"Yeah, I noticed that," Clint smirked. "Someone hasn't been doing their laundry – but then, I guess that a foul stench is bound to follow you everywhere, no matter what."

Loki fought back bile which threatened to rise to his throat. His fingers curled, shaking, into fists and along his arms, thinly corded muscle jumped as he restrained himself from hurling the machine beside him at the archer or cutting open his throat with the knife which the Assassin held or forcing him down to set his face on fire on – _No. Don't go there. Anger. Fear. They'll smell it on you and you'll never see the blue sky for the rest of your life_ – Loki stood there frozen, then he smiled casually (as if those dismissive words hadn't reminded him of his humilating station in life) and raised a casual finger to point at Clint.

"I believe your morning fare is burning," he smirked as Clint turned with a short, "Oh crap!" to remove the slices of bacon which had definitely a more blackish tinge to them than brown.

Natasha sighed. "Sit down, Loki."

Loki, edging to a chair far away from his brother and the rest, sat. Tony set down a glass of orange juice, milk and coffee. There was sugar and little things that were filled with cream. Loki said nothing as Steve showed up several minutes later with a plate of eggs – four of them – and Tony's woman, Pepper, brought sliced bread which had been roasted in some machine, he supposed. The butter, melting into the toast, wafted up fragrantly and his whole body stiffened as his fingers closed around the silverware.

"Thank you," he managed to get out, voice low. The woman, Pepper, smiled and Loki began to slowly, cut the eggs and dip the toast into it. Slowly, slowly, drink the orange drink and the milk and the coffee – and Jane pushed over a bowl of cut fruit, from which he chose a variety – none looked too familiar beyond the apples and oranges, but they smelled sweet and fragrant. Nothing like home. Nothing like Asgard. Nothing like dining with his mother in her private garden. But something he found himself irritatingly grateful for.

_Slowly, slowly..._ He had to keep reminding himself not to take the plate to his mouth and tip everything in as a whole. _I am not an animal. I am not a beast. I may be many things. I may be nothing. But... they must never guess how much I need these – _

_They can already guess, Loki – they already know. Look into their eyes. _

Loki focussed on his plate, ignoring the rest as everyone eventually sat down – except for Tony who wandered off with his McMuffins to some unknown depths in his tower. Pepper followed, a large sheaf of papers in her arms.

"So, we have some ground rules, here," Steve said, after he had eaten half his meal.

Thor glanced at Loki at the far end of the table, sitting by himself and refusing to meet any one's eyes. He was on his second plate and had, so far, refrained from speaking which both relieved and disturbed the God of Thunder. _A silent Loki means a scheming Loki. In the past. What can it mean now?_ He couldn't help but remember his brother in the jail cell, blood streaming down his face. _I still cannot broach the subject, _Thor sighed._ I guess, I must take this one step at a time._

"Ground rules," Bruce raised an eyebrow before glancing at Loki's dark head.

As if reading Bruce's mind, Loki's eyes jerked up and found a bunch of them staring at him again. He froze, eyes darting around the group, finally landing on Thor.

"Rules for all of us," Thor said, reassuringly.  
Loki snorted in disbelief. "What are these rules you speak of?"  
"Well, I think, we should all let each other know where we are going – just for security purposes," Steve replied mildly. "Tell JARVIS where you are going and when you think you will be back, before you leave the building. Helps reduce confusion. Should anything happen. So we don't have a repeat of -" Awkward pause. "A repeat of what happened yesterday."  
"Makes sense," Bruce shrugged.  
"Easy enough," Thor agreed. "And also, brother, we encourage you not to carry any weapons upon your person during this time."  
"I am not your brother," Loki sniffed. "And carrying a weapon on my part is useless after all. Anyone knows that any violence on my part – either through my hand or any weapon – would result in – in –" He couldn't finish his sentence, the fire in his veins and the convulsions and the memory of helplessness.  
"You wetting your pants and screaming 'Brother' for the world to see on Youtube?" Clint smirked.  
"Barton!" Steve's voice clashed with Thor's "Son of Barton!"

The fork in Loki's hand trembled for a short second, but he set it down, suddenly feeling too many things all at once. A desire to stab the archer in the throat until those words died as quickly as his beating heart. A need to spew his breakfast up – across the table and onto their plates so they could partake in his deep self-loathing. A wish to be alone so he could curl up and – _not cry – no_ – but beat back the tears which he knew shivered unshed in his eyes.

"What?" Clint snapped, suddenly feeling something not so welcome in the stares of everyone which shifted from him to Loki. "He deserves it. Sure he's been in prison for a thousand years, blah blah blah, but for the people of the world, seeing the spell in effect is a good way for them to know that justice has been served. And yeah, it lacks finesse – and it's not as final as I would like – but it'll do. Sort of. Well, the only better thing than watching the vid on repeat would be to actually be there myself."  
"That is low, Barton," Steve's blue eyes glinted. "Really low. I understand –"  
"No, you don't understand, okay, Rogers? You don't understand what it feels like to kill your own people and wake up and remember everything you had done and realize that something inside you had allowed it to happen and yet, it's not your fault – you know it's not your fault – but it feels like it is – because there was someone in your damn head all the damn time!"  
"Barton," Natasha pulled her comrade back down into the seat as Loki fled the room, as silently as he came, plate of food left unfinished. "We can't understand. Not really. But we also were hurt in ways you can't comprehend either." She paused. "I don't – we don't – expect you to accept him. But you need to step back a bit and gain some objectivity on this. You're losing control."

Barton stared at her for a long moment, but the red-head wasn't unnerved. Her calm eyes met his serenely and neither of them spoke while Bruce grabbed his plate and followed Loki out. Thor and Jane, glancing at each other, left as well. Natasha's hand found Clint's and she squeezed his roughened fingers gently in reassurance. Clint's eyes met hers, angry and hurt and just a little ashamed.

"I can't do this, 'Tash, I can't. Don't ask this of me, okay?"  
"You have to, if you want to survive this Christmas," was the calm reply. "I know you can do it, Clint. Sometimes, forgiveness and respect isn't a feeling – sometimes, it's a choice."

-0-0-0-

"That went... well..." Jane sighed, looking out over the city under the bright sun, enjoying the faint warmth on her face as Thor and she stood in the snow on Tony's balcony. "Your brother is actually rather... subdued. I thought you said he was mischievous and a prankster? Like the stories."  
"A thousand years fulfilling Asgardian justice is not an experience to undergo lightly," Thor sighed. "I fear my brother will never be the same as he was before."  
"Well, yeah, that's obvious. Loki is never going to be the same. Neither are you."  
"I was not in jail."  
"No. But everyone as they go through life, they – well, they change. It's part of growing up – of maturing – of... life... I guess."  
"You are right, Jane," Thor smiled down at her. "As usual. You know, in Asgard, before I met you, I was not... I was not a wise person. When we fought together on the Bifrost, Loki revealed that he had never wanted my throne – and later, Sif admitted that perhaps he had no desire to see me rule as a war-crazed king. All of my little brother's actions came from a misguided need to prove himself worthy to Father and to Asgard. In the end, however, Loki was lost to me."  
"He'll come around. One day."  
"Perhaps."  
"Speaking of, life and cycles and well, just how people mature and move on and start new cycles of life – well, what I'm trying to say is – we've been seeing each other now, for, what four months? Seriously. I know we talked about what that would mean, and I've been busy – but I would really like to take the next step, whatever that is. I don't know what you want, but I would like to take another step, in whatever this is."  
"So you would not take it amiss if I asked you to move into my rooms with me permanently?" Thor asked, with a small smile, pulling her close. "You already spend much of your time there."  
"Yes. I'd say yes. Of course," Jane managed to get out, finding once again that it was rather hard to breathe when Thor leaned over her. When his lips descended and found hers, and all she could do was sigh into the kiss and let her mind be swept away. They parted for a bit and she found she could only nod and say rather shortly, "Tonight."

-0-0-0-

"Jane."

It was Steve. Jane and Tony, looking up from the monitor they had been contemplating concerning black hole anomalies and the Bridge, blinked at the sight of the super soldier standing a little awkwardly in the white, shining lab. Steve, looking around, felt like once again he had entered some kind of bizarre world full of strange things he could only begin to guess at. However, Captain America was no coward. Straightening, Steve glanced at Tony, wishing the shorter man would leave. But Tony didn't budge. Just smiled and Steve sighed to himself.

"It's about my Secret Santa," he began, trying to ignore Tony's wide grin. "There's no way I can get..." Here, Steve glanced a small stickit note in his hand. "A horse, a pet bilgesnipe or – or – a hoard of poptarts."  
"What are you talking about?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "Poptarts are under a hundred dollars."  
"Sure," Steve frowned. "And why don't I just get a syringe of chemicals and pump him with them until he dies of... whatever you die of from too much artificial flavouring? I don't want to encourage unhealthy eating."  
"You should listen to yourself," chuckled Tony. "No. Seriously. Ever thought about doing commercials again?"  
"He did commercials?"  
"Well, he had his hey-day. Back in the day. I never sat down and watched them, but I'm sure JARVIS could dig them up. That or those ads where athletes and celebrities promote shit and stuff. Hey. I no judge – but c'mon, Cap. A guy's gotta live. What's a hoard of poptarts going to do to an Asgardian anyway? Live and let live, y'know? If I had that attitude –"  
"We aren't talking about your need to carpe diem," Steve said bluntly. "I just need a couple more hints on what I could get Thor for Christmas. And be happy with."  
"It's not about how you feel, Steve. I think you're missing the point. OK, OK," Tony stepped back and considered the problem seriously for a second. "Well. Horses aren't under a hundred... Not even a miniature pony."  
"Tony," Jane shook her head. "Let me think, Steve. Um, well..." She paused. Blushed.  
"Ohhhhhh... I know that look." Tony smirked. "That's the look Pepper gets when she starts thinking about something realllyyy inappropriate. You may want to start thinking strawberry poptarts now, Cap."

Steve flushed. Women nowadays seemed much more forward than he was used to. _Surely, she won't ask for something that... that... Good heavens. What kind of Christmas gift does she want - would she want?_

"No, no, no, no, no..." Jane blushed then and shook her head. "I was thinking – some clothes. You know. Some formals. If you go down to the Men's Warehouse, during Christmas, there's always stuff on sale."  
"Hey, hey, she's onto something, Stevie most Wondrous," Tony waved a stylus and brought up an internet site almost instantaneously. "Look at this – formal wear. Oh. Suits. I can see it. What d'you think, Jane? Thor... in a suit."  
"Oh... yes... Exactly."  
"And his measurements?" Steve asked, suddenly feeling like he needed to get away from Stark before he exploded with annoyance.  
"Let me take care of that," Jane smiled at Steve. "I'll have them for you by tomorrow, OK?"  
"Thanks, Jane," Steve nodded smiled at the woman. "A suit would be a great way for Thor to experience Earth culture. I appreciate your advice."  
"Hey, it was my advice!" Tony yelled as the super soldier left the room. "I copyright that! Where's my thanks?"  
"Actually, I was the one who said clothes," Jane reminded the genius. "But hey, you can take fifty percent of the blame."  
"Blame? What are you talking about? This idea is awesome – because it's fifty percent my idea. And wait - what's with women and percents?"

* * *

**Well, there we go. Sooooo... Clint drew Loki's name. Steve drew Thor's name... Next chapter... (double checks) No revelation of the other draws. Not yet. But soon... **

**Hopefully everyone can hang in there as we swim through the Christmas holiday together. Kinda weird now that it's all over. But that's OK. Tis fanfiction!**


	19. Let It Snow!

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Well, here we go. Something a bit more light and humorous. A step forward in preparation for two steps back. Or something like that. Well, c'est la vie, right? So. Here it is – an update. Man. This chapter's long. Hopefully, it's not just a waste of writing. I feel like there's too much dialogue and not enough description. (sigh)**

**6000+ words of writing here! I had told myself not to go beyond 4,000... Urgh. Hang in there folks!**

**And I've still not collated my exam marks! I'm a hopeless, hopeless teacher! Tomorrow. (makes oath to self) Tomorrow. Will do.**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 19  
Let It Snow!

"Oh the weather outside is frightful,  
But the fire is so delightful,  
And since we've no place to go,  
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!"  
("Let It Snow! Let It Snow! - sung by Vaughn Monroe)

"It's snowing!" Jane said, turning away from the large windows overlooking the wide balcony and the cheerily lit night vista of New York.  
"Again?" Tony asked, meandering over. "Well, you know what that means if it sticks around. Finally, finally, Christmas is here. For real. So that means we can get the operation finally started."  
"Operation?" Loki leaned in toward Thor.

Thor shrugged and smiled back. "The mortals have a different manner of speech, brother. Patience."

Loki leaned closer and whispered. "This group of mortals rarely make sense, Thor. Even with time, I do not believe it will get any better. Can you not feel your mental energies already declining in their company? It is almost as bad as Volstagg and Fandral's conversation... I cannot believe I agreed to this - this madness."  
"Give them some time, brother," Thor smiled at his younger sibling.  
"I am not your brother, Thor."  
"Now, Loki..."

Loki, with a put-upon sigh, edged away from his brother again, back to his original position on the far end of the sofa. Folding his arms, he leaned back and eyed his brother and the woman called Jane. _It is odd to sit here_, he thought. _To just wait so quietly for the evening to pass. How long has it been so peaceful, that I may sit and just breathe the air? Too long, too long. One should not take the opportunity for granted, I suppose.  
_

It was a quiet evening. Natasha was out, as was Pepper. Operation Bring Loki Home for Christmas had been a success. Now Operation Make Loki Like Christmas was in effect. Two days in, and they had to disappear back into their respective jobs for the rest of the week. No doubt because both women had incredibly busy professional lives. Stark Industries was just as demanding as SHIELD, so for the both of them, it was not uncommon to find themselves suddenly called away from the holiday festivities. That left Tony, Clint, Steve, Bruce and Thor to keep an eye on the God of Mischief and on the lookout for any other stirring from other supervillains who loved to ruin humanity's holiday plans.

Bruce was out for the night – a shift at the walk-in clinic over the tracks. Down in the gym, Steve was busy pounding away on the punching bag he had brought with him, enjoying the feel of leather underneath his bandaged fists. Above, Jane and Thor cuddled on the couch, chatting about something or the other and trying to ignore Loki's hard stare.

Clint watched Loki watch his brother. The God of Lies, true to his reputation, was inscrutable this evening. His face carefully blank. But Clint knew. He had a gut feeling (the kind of feeling which had kept him alive so far and when he looked into Natasha's eyes, he had known, known that this was someone who just needed another chance). _Still waters run deep_, he thought, _and it's only a matter of time for him to break down and show his true colours._ _Chaotic, dishonest, driven by mysterious emotions and twisted logic... What must he see when he looks at Thor and Jane? Something not understandable? Something disgusting? Something he wants? Jealousy?  
_

His ruminations were forgotten at the sight of the snowflakes drifting past the windows and Tony was calling him over with a familiar mischievious look on his face. Clint joined him.

"What's up, Stark?"  
"Thinking about your suggestion. The snow's been settling for a while now. I'm thinking sledding, skiing, snowboarding – an expedition. An Avengers expedition. Plus one. Of course. Can't just leave Loki with JARVIS. JARVIS is awesome, but not that awesome. Or maybe he is just that awesome and I've been underestimating him. Again. But it'd be fun to push Loki down a super large hill on a tobaggon. Don't make me wrestle you for this."  
"No, no. I'm with you on this one." Clint nodded slowly. "It'd be a good way for us all to... get some space and just... yeah... OK."  
"I'll get Pepper to rustle up my jet tomorrow. I'm thinking the Rockies."  
"Rockies?"  
"It's a fast jet."  
"OK. Sure. Far be it from me to complain. "  
"Great, I'll text Miss Potts now and she'll have it ready for tomorrow morning. We can make it an overnight trip. Get everyone to pack. Text Bruce too. So he can join. I'm sure the Hulk will like a bit of fresh air. Yeah. Thor'll be totally behind it. He's the rough outdoorsy type. I can tell. Think Natasha will be back?"  
"Hm. I can talk to Fury and see what her status is. Send her a text too. She could join us."  
"Yeah, I did kinda wanna see if she could flip SHIELD the birdie and hijack a quinjet." Tony grinned as his phone came out and he sent a quick text to Pepper.  
"Sometimes I can't tell if you are joking or not," Clint said deadpan.  
"That's the point, I think."  
"What if they don't want to come?"  
"They?"  
"Well, Loki."  
"Just say Loki then. As amusing as I find your inability to face him and deal with the problem, it can get a bit old the second or third time around. It's called 'being a man', although I know some women who would take umbrage to that kind of comment. You girlfriend-not-girlfriend comes to mind -"  
"Shut up, Stark." Pause. "It's a serious question. I don't want to have to shoot Loki with a bunch of sedatives for a fun day out in the mountains."  
"Yeah, you do."  
"OK. Yeah. I wanna shoot him up," admitted Clint unrepentantly.  
"Clint," Tony smiled. "They'll – Loki – will come. That I promise you. The key is, of course, Thor."

-0-0-0-

"So, we are going to a famous mountain?" Thor asked again as he strapped himself into the airplane seat, as the jet rolled down the runway for take off. He glanced at Jane, face wreathed in his usual perpetual smile, which was returned just as easily.

Loki rolled his eyes. The amount of romance in the air made his stomach roil and twist. The fact that his brother was besotted with a mortal was bad enough, forget the fact that he was mindlessly besotted. _As usual. I wonder if Lady Sif knows about this... He smirked to himself. I hope I am the first to break her the news._ Turning his gaze away from the sappy looks exchanged between the woman – _Jane_ – and his br- _Thor_, Loki contemplated the clouds passing underneath the plane.

"Yes," Tony smiled. "The Rockies." He waved down a waitress and ordered some alcohol all around. "Great place for what we're going to do today."  
"Which is what, exactly?" Loki asked, coolly, fingers drumming on the chair rest he was seated in.  
"Sledding," Steve smiled at the God of Mischief seated across from him. "Do you go sledding in Asgard?"

Loki balked at the question which kind of answered it for the rest of the Avengers. Thor intervened before tempers began to rise.

"We are not familiar with this."  
"You stand on the top of a hill – or when you are really grown up or love the challenge – at the top of a mountain and wheeeeee~" Tony's hands waved through the air. "You sit on a piece of cardboard or plastic or wood and you go down, down, down. Incredibly fast and amazing. And of course, requires a lot of nerves, the ability to steer – you know to avoid the trees – and, depending on your ability, there are other variations. Snow skiing, snowboarding..."  
"As princes of Asgard," Loki shifted, hands suddenly stilled. "We were taught in many of the athletic arts. I am sure this kind of activity will be easily learnt."  
"Sure," Bruce smiled. "Kids do it all the time. It's fun, Loki. We'll start out easy. Thor and you can try out sledding and then go from there. Right, guys?"  
"Absolutely. One step at a time," Tony agreed, smiling infuriatingly at Loki. "Like riding a bicycle. Oh wait. You can't ride one... That euphemism won't work for you. Uh, how about skating? Swimming? No, I know – horses! You guys ride horses, right? Like getting up on a horse after you fall off. Well, no. That's an entirely different thing all together. The idiom, I mean. Not the actual act of – well, never mind."

Loki suddenly had a delicious vision of shoving the man's wine glass down his ever open, endlessly active gullet. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, folded his hands and tried to ignore the twitch that was growing in his left eye. _I can survive this. I can survive this. I can survive this. I can survive this._

-0-0-0-

Loki had survived wrestling a bilgesnipe down to the ground when he was twenty years old. He had survived an arm-wrestling match with Volstagg (he had lost but had not lost his arm, but it rankled, the idea that that had been more due to his station than his actual ability). There had been that small matter with the dwarves. He had gotten by thanks to his tricks and a well-thought out ruse. He had survived the royal fencing master, the sword master, the horse master and the Warriors Three. He had survived the Void, the Being whose name he could never say or think of, the Other, the Chitauri. Even more importantly, he had survived Thor.

Still, Midgard was a place of surprises. Anything involving the Avengers, Loki had come to believe, needed to be treated with care. So, when he found himself on top of a particularly high slope after lunch, a 'sled' in hand, Loki made certain to walk a little more slowly, the better to let his more enthusiastic brother – _Thor, Thor _– go ahead of him.

A long time ago, Thor and he had been stuck in a particularly wintery season on Svartalheim (long, long before that place had become something of a hel for him) and had ended up running for their lives across some particularly nasty fields of ice with some wild animal after them. Tipping over the edge, they had ended up skidding down a rather large hill until tumbling head over heels through the snow, they had rested at the edge of a path into a woods and a village. The two princes had reached safety, but since then, Loki had developed a habit to look before he leaped – or stepped.

If possible, letting Thor go before him was imperative. Watching Thor and learning from his mistakes was something that Loki was particularly adept at. _Save myself pain and embarassment_, he smirked to himself as he watched Thor and Jane disappear down the hill, shrieking happily all the way. His brother's figure dwindled to speck and when Thor and Jane eventually staggered to their feet at the bottom, arms waving happily, Loki knew that there was no two ways about it.

_I have to go down myself._ He sighed. _This is madness, Loki. You will end up making a fool of yourself as you always have done these many years past. On the other hand, balking like a child, running away like a coward..._ He peered at Clint, who was standing there, legs sturdily entrenched in the snow, sunglasses firmly on, arms folded – and a wide grin on his face. Loki sighed and turned away.

"What's the matter, Loki?" Clint's smirk widened. "Scared of heights? Or is it the speed?"  
"Neither," Loki replied calmly, forcing his hands still as Tony readied the next toboggan.  
"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of," Tony said, gesturing to the toboggan. "It's your first time and all. Although if you piss your pants, I won't forgive you. There's no way I can mentally survive a toboggan ride with you and pissed pants. You a bed-wetter, Loki? Somehow I can see it –"

Loki blinked at the chatty genius and turned to Pepper with a raised eyebrow as if to say, 'Translation please?'. Pepper just sighed and frowned at Tony. Who couldn't be stopped to save his own life.

"Oh, wait – you know – piss – pee – wet your pants."  
"I would not wet myself over a mere children's ride down the side of a mountain," sneered Loki. "If Thor can survive it, then I definitely can."  
"Yeah, except for the part where you aren't much of a god anymore –" Bruce had to point out perversely just to see Loki flinch at the reminder. "If I Hulked out and put an Loki-sized imprint in the side of the mountain, think you'd survive?"  
"That's an experiment I'd be willing to document," Clint held up his camera.  
"Considering I took a shot from your petty Midgardian weaponry the other day," Loki replied bitingly (but he stepped back a few paces to sidle up next to Tony – as if the shorter man would be a viable, much less willing, human shield against the Green Rage Monster). "I think I can survive anything this inconsequential realm has to offer as a challenge."  
"You were shot? When? Bruce, did you catch that - hey, wait - inconsequential, huh?" Tony turned to quirk an eyebrow at the tall god. "Inconsequ – really? If it was so inconsequential, what the hell does it say about the god who wanted to rule said inconsequential realm? Wow." Tony turned to Steve, shaking his head in mock sorrow, enjoying the silent fury growing on Loki's face. "Look how low he has sunk! He actually admits to being small-minded."  
"Out of the mouth of babes," Bruce grinned. "Get on the toboggan, Loki," he added quickly, knowing that before long, Loki's incredibly short temper would snap and seizures or no, the god would brain them all with the wooden sled. That or stake them through the hearts with the torn pieces. "I'll go down with you and Tony."  
"I'm steering," Tony said. "Loki. You're getting on first. Tuck your feet in the front. Here..."

After a few minutes, Loki found himself staring out over the curved front of the wood toboggan, feet tucked in the front, knees up to his chest, with Bruce hugging him from behind (which made his stomach turn over and die, but he would rather bite out his own tongue and choke on his own blood than admit his fear and discomfort) and Tony further back. Clint was laughing now and, turning, Loki glared as someone's camera phone clicked loudly.

"This is going on my Loki Christmas calender," Steve was saying fondly.

And that was even worse – knowing that the super soldier meant no malice. The archer wasn't so merciful.

"Love the whites in his eyes. He looks like he's having so much fun," Clint agreed. "That's definitely going to go in my 2014 Christmas scrapbook. Too bad 'Tasha can't see this."  
"I'll start you guys off," Steve said and with a 'gentle' push (but not so gentle because gentle for a super soldier, is, well, you get the picture)... and they were off.

Loki's grip on the front of the toboggan got dangerously tight as Bruce started yelling and whooping into his ear, clutching the ex-God of Mischief even tighter. Tony, behind Bruce, seemed to be doing a good job of steering – so far, they had avoided any tree which loomed up on either side of them. Gritting his teeth, eyes wide and mildly tearing up, long black hair blowing back in the wind, Loki choked back a wail and rode it out silently. _I survived in a dark pit for two or three hundred years. I survived Svartalheim. I survived centuries underneath sadistic guards. I survived Tha- I survived him and the Other and the Chitauri and the Hulk – who is – who is right behind me – don't think about it don't think about it – I survived the Void and before it - _

The sled kept going. Loki wondered how it would be able to stop. _If I had magic, this kind of nonsense wouldn't be an issue._ Thor and Jane passed them in a blur and the slope began to even out. They barely missed at tree and eventually, they came to a slow stop and Tony was getting up and Bruce and for a moment, Loki wondered if his legs would ever work again – but he managed to stagger to his feet.

"Well, there you go, big guy," Tony was saying. "Need a moment to pass out?"  
"Tony," Bruce said mildly, slipping his glasses off to rub off accumulated snow which had landed on them. "It's his first time."  
"I am fine," Loki bit out, and exhaled a long, rattling breath which ended with a cough. "For being such weaklings," he finally admitted. "I must admit that you mortals have an unhealthy fascination with danger."  
"That's us," Tony replied cheerfully. "We have balls, Loki. Unlike you invincible Asgardians... Wanna go again?"

Loki lifted his chin.

"Certainly. It was an... interesting experience, if nothing else."  
"Uh-huh," Bruce mildly replied. "Let's walk up slowly and get our breath back. You didn't seem to... uh, enjoy yourself so much this time around. Which isn't suprising. Most children are scared their first time around –"  
"Do not patronize me, Banner's Son," Loki hissed. "I am more than capable of –"  
"Blah, blah, blah," Tony flapped a hand. "Come on, your Godliness. We've got a few more rides to go. Wanna go down with Clint? No? Too bad. I hear he's really great at maneuvering the jumps. It's almost like you're flying – That doesn't interest you? Hm. I guess with Clint at the helm, I'd be afraid he'd bail and leave you to go down on your lonesome. Bruce – you wanna go again with Loki? I have to go down with Pepper next time."  
"Sure," Bruce shrugged. "I'm sure Loki and I can get down the hill fine by ourselves. Right, Loki?" He grinned as Loki froze momentarily before resuming his dutiful trudge back up the hill. "Maybe this time, you can actually relax."  
"Well, at least you didn't piss your pants, Rudolph," Tony said encouragingly. "That's a good sign, right?"  
"I don't think he would have been able to piss," Bruce snorted. "That guy was more tightly wound than my grandmother's music box. I could swear all his sphincter's –"  
"I get the picture." Tony laughed. "I think you need to try it again, Loki. Bruce is a big guy, literally. He'll take care of you. Has a vested interest in making sure you stay in one piece, right? Way I hear it, the Hulk has a thing for you, Loki. No, really. He misses his little Loki. Everyday. Hey, don't look at me like that. Be proud. You might be puny, but you're his best stress reliever in the Big Apple. Although my interior decorator and floor wasn't too happy about it."

Loki gritted his teeth, stuffed his gloved hands into the jacket Steve had lent him and turned his eyes away, refusing to meet Bruce's knowing eyes and refusing to discuss the topic with the ever annoying Man of Iron. _Laugh, fools_, he promised himself. _Laugh now, while you can. One day, I will return with my powers – no longer hampered by __his__ hold on me, or Odin's spells, and I will show you such pain that even the Green Beast will wish he never laid a finger on a god of Asgard, pitiful Jotun or no – _

"Just ignore the idiot, Loki." Bruce said, after a few minutes had passed and Loki did not reply. But his words weren't too comforting.

They made the rest of the trip up the hill in silence.

At the top, Pepper stood with Jane and Thor, discussing who would go down next. Thor was exclaiming that his next ride had to be with his brother. No ifs, ands or buts. Loki sighed. _If things couldn't get worse... they just did..._ Bruce smiled and agreed – and before Loki knew it, he was once again at the front of the toboggan (_why why why why, why is it always me?_) with Thor's heavy arms wrapped around him, drawing him unwillingly up against his chest. Thor's legs surrounded Loki's slight frame and for a moment, he wasn't on the toboggan but in Thor's bed after a particularly scary nightmare being comforted by his older brother. Trying to lean forward away from Thor (and yet, so very unable), Loki wished that he could have remained, if not in Stark Tower with the unseen intelligence, then at least in the warm building at the foot of the mountain.

Tony pushed them off and away the three went, speeding up – faster and faster – passing Steve, who cheered them all, and Clint, who whistled at them. This time, it was different. For one thing, the Beast wasn't clasping him. And a short man wasn't steering the thing. And it wasn't his first time. And Thor's familiar scent was around him. Loki felt himself relax, unexpectedly. Thor leaned forward, his chin on Loki's right shoulder, his arms tightening a bit around Loki's waist.

"Relax, little brother," he said quietly, knowing that Loki's ever sharp hearing would pick up his words despite the sharp wind whistling past. "I will never let you come to harm."  
"I can take care of myself," Loki grumbled back.

But he did feel safer for some reason. Cursing his weakness, Loki surrendered to the moment. He gulped in the crisp clean air, closed his eyes and just enjoyed the wind on his face. The strong arms around him. Arms that he knew would never let him go.

When the ride came to an end, he was laughing and yelling as well. Bending down and turning away, Loki brushed away a suspicious wetness at the corners of his eyes and refused to meet his brother's laughing eyes. Thor's laughing eyes. Bruce smiled and began to head back up the hill, sled in tow, choosing to ignore how Loki had – just for a second – unconsciously perhaps – leaned into his brother's embrace as Thor had excitedly clasped his brother's shoulders and turned the two brothers toward the side of the slope.

_Even for the broken things in life, there's hope_, Bruce mused to himself. _For myself. For Loki..._

Tony and Pepper raced Steve and Jane down the mountain, all screaming each other and trying not to collide.

_For all of us._

-0-0-0-

That evening, Natasha got back from her mission, joining them at the nice warm lodge which Pepper had booked for the evening. After a day in the cold snow, everyone welcomed the warmth of a real log fire (although it took a lot of dissuading to stop Thor from going out and chopping down a random tree for more firewood) and well-cooked food. Loki wolfed down the meat, the vegetables and bread placed before him, happy to just eat and (as usual) not willing to partake in the conversation which flowed around the table.

The following morning, the entire group went back up the mountain, this time to a smaller gentler slope. Loki and Thor stared at it, confused. Children and uncertain adults were slipping to and fro, up and down the slope, wearing bizarre instruments on their feet.

"Skiing," Steve explained easily. "A great winter sport and incredibly traditional for this time of year. Uh, Tony. I don't think I can teach both of them together. Why don't you take Loki?"  
"I'll show Reindeer Games the glory of snowboarding," Tony put his hands on his hips and eyed the tall, lithe god. "He's got that kind of grace which suits it, I think. Clint?"  
"Aw, hell no."  
"Clint..." Steve turned to the short archer with a firm smile.  
"I'll tag along," Natasha nudged her long-time partner. "Then, we'll go skiing. C'mon, it'll be fun. Sort of. We'll take lots of pictures of him falling down."  
"If we're lucky, he'll break his leg," Clint cheered up. "Another Youtube great in the making."  
"I will not break my leg," gritted out Loki, stalking after the two assassins.  
"He will not break his leg," Tony agreed.

Loki glanced at the billionaire genius in surprise at the sudden support.

"His ego on the other hand," Tony paused. "May get damaged. But that's just part of the fun, right, Rudolph?"  
"It is Loki," he snapped. "I do not understand what you mean by this Rudolph you speak of. I am sure there is some kind of derogatory meaning to it, however."  
"Uh, not really. He's a hero deer."  
"A hero deer."  
"Yeah, you know, Santa's reindeer." Tony explained patiently. "You've heard about Santa Claus, right? White beard? Red clothes with white fur trim..."

Loki just stared back at him blankly and Tony suddenly found a need to supress an urge to smile as a horrible, wonderful, terrible, awesome idea began to formulate in his mind. Clint, dropping back, raised an eyebrow. Tony winked at him surreptitiously and turned to Loki to add.

"I'm surprised you haven't hear of him. Lives in the North Pole. Has a ton of elvish helpers... No? Not ringing a bell?"  
"I have never heard of such a being existing in this realm before," Loki's eyes narrowed. "Are you attempting to lie to the God of Lies? That kind of ploy cannot succeed –"  
Tony snorted. "C'mon, Mister Impotent. You're basically all talk at this point – but whatever. You can just pretend you know everything in this, what did he call it yesterday, Clint? Inconsequential realm... Hey. I'm not saying it's your fault you don't know about Santa Claus. I'll show you Fury's reports on his activities, if you'd like."  
"And this – this personage has a deer whose name is Rudolph?" Loki finally asked.  
"Yep," Natasha nodded, glad that her job had honed her ability to keep a straight face in the most funny and serious moments of life. "Even I know that, and I don't even like to celebrate this holiday."  
"Not just any kind of deer either," Clint added. "A reindeer. One of his reindeer. So in a way, Stark's complimenting you when he calls you Rudolph. He's a bit of hero. Frankly, I don't see the resemblence."  
"Top reindeer that pulls the sleigh," Tony explained further, picking up where Clint left off as the two assassin's chose four snowboards careuflly. "There are twelve of them, but he leads them all. So, he's kinda - I don't know - special?"

Loki's eyes were scanning his face carefully for any sign of falsehood, but Tony was pretty confident. _If Loki is the God of Mischief and Lies_, he thought with an inward grin. _Then, he doesn't know it yet, but I'm his top minion._

"The sleigh?"  
"Yeah, think of it like a carriage-sled. It can go on snow and ice and – due to very high technology and magic – it can fly at great speeds. All around the world."  
"You expect me to believe this, Stark?" Loki sounded amused, but his eyes were serious.  
"Who doesn't? Well, doesn't matter. You and your horned helmet – well, let's just say that it really reminded me of deer - and Rudolph just jumps to mind."  
"Hmph."

Tony turned away, pain spreading through his cheeks as he forced his mouth to stay politely smiling. _Loki actually looks pleased. Damn it, this is going to be funny. Of course, Thor doesn't know either. Oh man. We need to text Pepper. If we do this right, Christmas will get that much funnier!_ He whipped out his phone and began to text madly.

"Got some pretty sweet boards here," Clint came up and offered one to Loki. "We'll start on the bunny slopes and work our way up, OK?"  
"Sounds good to me," Natasha nodded. "You think you can do this, Loki? I seriously don't want SHIELD and your father, uh, Odin, getting angry at us, because you couldn't handle a little snow."  
"Odin isn't my father," Loki shot back. "And snow can't hurt me. Much." He paused, then stiffened, lifting his chin again in his usual haughty way. "It is more the falling that can – well, I have fallen into a rip in space and time, a small fall onto snow pales in comparison."  
"Glad to see you're keeping things in perspective," Tony slipped his phone back into his pocket, message sent safely to Pepper and Bruce. "Let's see how this goes, OK?"

-0-0-0-

Two hours later, Thor and Loki met each other on a slope, feeling a little more comfortable with the equipment they had been given. Although not usually fond of physical sport, Loki had always been graceful and light on his feet. True he did not have the bashing, crushing, hacking skills of his fellow Asgardians; however, few would take Loki on in battle regardless. Not when there was life and death on the line. Loki had his own method of combat which allowed him much flexibility and speed. Magic just made him even more unpredictable and deadly.

So, in the end, although a challenge and presenting many opportunities for embarassment (and it was suprising how Clint seemed to have a knack for having his camera ready for the most inopportune moments) and pain, Loki managed to overcome the challenges and discovered an affinity for the winter sport known as 'snowboarding'. Pepper's updates on Thor's "rapid progress" fueled his desire to show that he could do well in the area given to him, which amused Tony and Natasha no end.

"Watching him," Natasha murmured to Tony as they watched Loki make his way down the slope toward them, green eyes narrowed in concentration. "I can see – how single-minded he can get."  
"Kinda scary?"  
"Maybe. Useful, potentially."  
"If we could get him onto our side, you mean," Tony noted.  
"Well, yeah."

Pause. Loki had tipped over and a steady stream of Nordic curses (it sounded too nasty to be a compliment to himself) was now emanating from him as he struggled to surer footing.

"Really determined," she repeated again. "Especially when his brother is involved."  
"Another useful thing?"  
"Maybe. I was thinking it was..." Natasha smiled a small smile then. "Suprisingly... heart-warming?"  
"Well, Miss Romanoff," Tony grinned. "I think that quote is going to go in the next SHIELD newsletter – could you say it again – this old man is rather hard of hearing... All that Black Sabbath is bound to have a long-term effect."  
"I can kill you in my sleep," Natasha replied calmly.  
"Shutting up now."

Meeting up with Thor later, Loki felt fairly confident that the race instigated by Steve and Clint, between his brother and he, would be fair and would present him with the rare opportunity to best his br – _Thor – do not think that just because this is a friendly outing they are not waiting for you to slip up and show some weakness toward him_.

Positioned on the top of the hill, the two brothers glanced at each other, teeth bared with wolfish grins, eyes lit with competitive spirit, excitement and glee. For a moment, there was a tense silence - then a sharp whistle from Steve and they were off down the hill.

"Who d'you think will win?" asked Bruce, wiping his glasses for the gazillionth time in a row and remembering again why he had chosen Calcutta as his hideout of choice and not Siberia.  
"Thor," Jane, Clint and Tony said simultaneously.  
"Snowboarding is more difficult to handle," Clint replied. "Loki's got natural grace and balance –"  
"Stop the presses!" Tony interrupted the archer. "Where's that video camera when you need it? This needs to get on Youtube. The sort of famous Hawkeye making a positive comment on the infamous Loki, ex-God of Lies, Mischief and Chaos blah blah blah –"  
"Shut up, Tony," Clint glared at the billionaire. "And what do you mean 'sort of'? You want me to accidentally hit you next time we go out on a mission? Anyways... I was just going to say that, Loki's built for snowboarding, but Thor's going to win because skiing is much easier to master and the physics of –"  
"Blah blah blah. I'm still back at the natural grace and balance of Loki. Still reeling. Hey, have Clint's eyes turned blue and we not noticed? OK. Bad joke. My bad. Pepper, what d'you think?"  
"Tony." Pepper sighed. "You'll get your head torn off one of these days and I won't be able to do anything. As for the boys... I don't know. Thor's really into it – but despite his competitive spirit, I don't think he's got the burning edge that Loki has."  
"Yeah, that guy's intense," Natasha folded her arms and shook her head. "He'd probably risk his own safety to take down his brother. If he can't win, no one else can. Ultimately, self-destructive."  
"And that's the daily optimistic tip from our resident Sherlockian psychotherapist," Tony chuckled.  
"Well, she's right," Bruce sighed. "We should have stuck to sledding."  
"Hell no," Clint shook his head. "Don't you see? They're brothers. They love hating each other. This is going to be good."  
"We should've hired a bird for this," Tony sighed. "It's hard to see from this angle. Well, I'm not going to stand around. I'm here to ski, not worry about Thor and Loki. I'll let you guys know if I find any trails of blood on the way down."

Strapping on his snowboard, Tony pushed off, followed by Pepper and Jane. Ahead, the two brothers continued on their way, weaving through the trees over the wide expanse of snow. Halfway down, Thor and Loki began to relax and cheerfully taunt each other in their mother tongue and as they came to the end, Loki veered left and tipping over, dragged Thor down. Thor thrashed, long legs waving in the air, cursing good-naturedly. Rolling over awkwardly, Thor began to hit his brother lightly with the ski poles, ignoring Loki's yelps of annoyance.

Loki rose first to his feet, sliding out of the board's restraints easily, but he was tripped by his brother's long arms and this time, when his brother buried his face in the snow, he kept rein on his memories. It was just Thor and him. Together in the snow as they had once played a long time ago in the lee of the lofty mountains during the winter season. For those few precious seconds, there was only sunlight glittering on the white expanse. The cool air which he always had felt more comfortable in. The crispness of the air. There was Thor's hot breath puffing out a cloud. There was nothing between them but laughter.

Thor's laughter teased out a small smile, which froze as realization trickled back. The Man of Iron was calling his name and his hand, reaching for the ski pole stopped and Loki flinched, pulling back.

"Loki – Brother –" Thor's voice was muffled as he rose to his feet.

When Thor looked up, Loki's back was turned as he dusted off the board he had so easily maneuvered.

"We should go," Loki was saying.

Their eyes met again, but this time, Loki's green eyes were gaurded. Thor sighed. Then brightened. His brother had not corrected him.

"You used the board well," Thor unbuckled his skis awkwardly.  
"Of course," Loki lifted his chin. "I may not often compete as you did, but this kind of sport is not beyond my abilities."  
"I would be suprised if it was."  
"Yes, well..." Loki paused, uncertainly. "You were not too bad yourself."  
"You think it would go over well back in Asgard?" Thor mused. "We have the mountains for it. These sporting events would make for splendid competition during the winter season."  
"Well, hunting deer and wolves, drinking oneself senseless and catching maidens can get rather dull after a time," Loki agreed dryly. "Although I can not imagine Volstagg finding the momentum to go anywhere."

Thor had to laugh.

_Ohhhhh... Loki..._

* * *

**And that's how I end it... Uhhhh... No better way, I thought. Well, let me know what you think... **

**PLEASE REVIEW! I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER!_  
_**


	20. Mortal Flesh

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Reply to Guest Reviewers

Sydney Jones: I'm glad you and your brother are enjoying it! I hope that you guys will continue to have fun with us as we go on this journey!

**AHHHHH! THIS IS IT! THE CHAPTER OF THE BRUCE!**

**Also known as the "The Chapter In Which Many Clubs are Expounded Upon". I kid you not. Count them.**

**Of course, you know that I am trying to get many perspectives on this Christmas as I possibly can. (Who knows – I may even try to write some Fury... crazier things have happened in fanfic kingdom...) Still, Bruce is a very interesting character because he seems to me to be the most ambivalent toward Loki. Even in the movies. There was nothing personal between him and Loki (not like with the others). Well, Steve Rogers was also rather neutral as well. But... even then there was a holier-than-thou dynamic (justified, but still there).**

**But Bruce is the awesome. He whups Loki and does so with little emotion. Sums it all up with 'puny God' after the floor spanking. Yep. Such a good moment. Tom Hiddleston and Joss Whedon's favourite moment. I think I paused, rewound and rewatched it like six times. And of course on the gag reel, watching Hiddleston giggle as he shifts in his crater makes me also giggle. (sigh) I'm so Loki'd.**

**Anyways. Writing Bruce. I've been holding back for a while now, just because I felt that I needed to get his core settled – sort of – before I began to embellish. Yep. We'll see...**

**WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK? (bites nails nervously) This is do or die folks... Right here, right now...**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 20  
Mortal Flesh

"Let all mortal flesh keep silence,  
And with fear and trembling stand;  
Ponder nothing earthly minded"  
("Let All Mortal Flesh" - sung by Fernando Ortego)

Creamy white walls, bright, neon lights harsh and unequivocal in their brilliance, unflinchingly revealing every crook and cranny. Laying bare any speck of dust or dirt that may have been left behind by the weekly night cleaning staff. The surfaces were spartan in their bareness with only a few surgical gloves laid out. A microscope and a variety of slides in a small stack beside it. Several, innocuous tan folders with the now familiar cramped writing of Howard Stark filling up the margins of the closely typed information he had been poring over. Partially translucent screens flickered information in a ceaseless cycle, keeping him up to date with the latest test results.

The results from the tests of the mass spec, the scanners, x-ray machines, microscopes, and other machinery which cost the entire worth of several third-world nations. Yet, familiar. So familiar. Everything humming quietly. The coffee maker, a good few paces away in one corner, burbled and gurgled and hissed. A familiar, comforting sound. Bruce, sitting up, cricked his neck and sighed. Glanced at the clock.

_Half past midnight. Almost. Still early._ Bruce frowned. _What's with the exhaustion? I didn't think a bit skiing and sledding could tire me out so quickly. Or maybe it was that long shift at the clinic. Or maybe, it's something else entirely. _

If he was honest with himself (and Bruce could hardly afford to be anything but honest), the quiet doctor was definitely of two minds about the whole Loki scheme. He could imagine Tony saying something to the effect of 'Well, don't you have two minds about most things anyways?" But no, it was more like three minds – or two minds with one mind half agreeing with the other mind – _or no... Now I'm just confusing myself. _

Easing his glasses off, Bruce pinched his nose and ran his hands through his greying hair and sighed. Loki – just the thought of Loki – brought out some unknown, subconscious tension in him, as if resonating still through him like it had before, on that day which had seemed to last forever. Yes. Definitely a dual set of opinions.

_Well, what can you expect, having a God of Chaos around the house?_ Bruce grimaced. _The last thing I need is chaos in an already fragile environment. Loki isn't the only one with a cell waiting for him. _

The door whooshed open behind him, but he didn't look up from the microscope he was not really focusing on. How long had he been staring at the same plate?

"Looking tired." It was Tony.

As he had expected. Bruce readjusted his glasses, pulled himself up and swivelled around.

"Feel like an old man," he admitted to his friend and sort-of employer. Shaking his head, he sagged back against the table. "After two days of physical exercise like sledding and skiing. Only two days... I didn't think I was so unfit."  
"Hm." Tony frowned. "Or it's not the exercise."  
"I know where you're going with this..." Bruce's eyebrows knit together in a slight frown. "Not talking about it."  
"I know, how it must feel to have something... someone... like that around. Well. That's just being facetious. Um, sounds facetious. I'm not meaning it that way, big guy. Just, you know, I can only imagine what it's like for you. We're all under pressure this season. Natasha has her hands full with – well, stuff. Like Clint. Clint is going to shoot someone soon out of sheer nerves. I'm kinda hoping it'll be Fury, but that would mean major shit hitting the fan. And Lo–"  
"Not talking about it," Bruce cut in, glancing up at Tony and then turning around to replace the plate he had been looking at with another.  
"OK. How about in code? The L-Word."  
"Lesbians?" Bruce smiled behind the microscope.  
"I don't think you can spell lesbians with four letters."  
"Yeah. I thought as much." Bruce propped himself up on his elbows, face in hands and after a moment, he raised his head, knowing that Tony wasn't going to go anywhere until he came clean. "Listen –"  
"Hey, you know what, forget about it," Tony shrugged, pausing to fiddle with one of the screens. "If you don't want to talk about it, fine. Just wanting to let you know that you can spill it out, if you want. Or we can get you a nice jet to take you out to some remote island in the Pacific, where you can Hulk out and smash mountains to your heart's content. Either way, call on me."  
"Uh. Thanks," Bruce said lamely. "You know. I'm fine. I just need... space."  
"A lot of space. If it keeps up, we're gonna have to change your name from Bruce the Hulk to Bruce the Hermit. Or the Anchorite..."  
"Tony."  
"Or the Solitarian. Bruce the Wise."  
"Tony," Bruce sighed. "I'm just – I can't explain it. I feel sorry for the idiot."  
"Idiot? You mean the L-word-that-is-not-denoting-lesbians and not the related TV show?"  
"Yes." Pause. "I feel sorry, but I still want to wipe the floors with him."  
"The Other Guy wants to wipe the floor with him? That's cool. I think we're all down with that."  
"No," Bruce ran his hands through his hair again, making the grey ends stick up everywhere and turned to face his friend and sighed, "I do. And that's... that's what scares me. That..."  
"The L-Word or the Other Guy?"  
"Loki."  
"Shhh..." Tony whispered. "That is the one we do not speak of."  
"Tony. Shut up. I'm being serious here."  
"And so am I," Tony frowned. "You're scared of him. Scared of what he brings out in you. You. You, soon to be Bruce the Hermit. Not the Green Rage Monster. And that's what scares you. Because before, before him, it was simple. There was you, the rational, loving, gentle, meek, soft-spoken guy who loved kittens and rabbits and helping poor people in Calcutta. And you had a rage problem – but it was in control. And then there was the Other You, which wasn't so rational, or loving or gentle or meek or soft-spoken who would rather hug kittens and rabbits to death. But when L-word came along, well, things got more complicated. Again."  
"Yes. Now, it's like, we can finally agree on something."  
"I love it when you and I collaborate – or you mean, 'we' we? Or – sorry..." Tony's brow wrinkled. "I'm confusing myself. You have alcohol? Don't tell me you haven't made a stash yet? This is disappointing, Bruce, friend of Bongo. This always makes more sense with whisky. Or vodka. Or wine. Or –"  
"No alcohol in the workplace, Tony," Bruce sighed. "And when I talk with you, I don't think even alcohol could help make sense of your world. What I mean... what I mean is the Other Guy and me. The Other Guy and I. Or whatever. We can both agree that making a new crater with Loki would be incredibly... relieving, fun, a moment to relive again and again."  
"And that bothers you?"  
"Well, yeah."  
"Why?" Tony shrugged and helped himself to some coffee. "I mean, join the club. I'd like to throw him out the window and watch him scream like a baby – and then catch him before he hits the sidewalk. And I'm nice! Clint still wants to stab him in the eye or eyes – or shoot him or whatever. Natasha probably struggles with not tearing his arms off his body. Or his head. Or both. Steve and Thor are just sympathetic bozos. No surprise that they're the only ones who actually care about, you know, L-word."  
"But you brought him in," Bruce blinked. "Because you were concerned."  
"Uhhhh..." Tony turned around slowly and looked a little guilty. "Yes. And no. But – wait! In my defence, it's possible to have mixed motivations. Hey, I'm only human, right?"  
"Tony!"  
"Hey, I'm surprising myself! I mean, so far, it's turning out OK."  
"For now," Bruce said darkly. "What if my control slips? What if I can't hold back and I just want to make sure for myself that he's gotten the punishment he deserves? What if I end up lashing out and hurting other people in the process? You think Thor is just going to stand back and watch as I steamroll over his little brother? And after all Loki has been through. I'd never forgive myself. And when I wake up, will I wake up here in Stark Tower? Or in another jail cell? The one I know is still out there with my name on it?"  
"Hmmm..." Tony shifted sideways, sipping from his coffee cup and nodding approvingly as the hot, bitter drink spread over his tongue. "Good stuff here. OK. I hear you. You've got a lot of – many – justifiable fears. And if it helps, if all that shit did, you know, happen. You and, um, Loki would no doubt be enjoying each other's company as next-door neighbours. OK, OK. That was in poor taste. See, Bruce... I think you're forgetting something crucial here."  
"Yeah? Really? I thought I summed it up pretty well."  
"Sure. Except for the part where you forget the other third of your brain. Or half. Or whatever. I fail as a percentage man. Ask Pepper. And Jane. Look, that part of you that stops yourself from tearing up Manhattan and SHIELD on a permanent basis. That part of you that landed in a solitary place to avoid casualties when you fell from the helicarrier. That part of you that is in control so much of the time. That part of you that gives free healthcare to people who barely deserve it. Or maybe they deserve it. But whatever. You get what I mean. That part, Bruce, that is the part of you who won't crush L-word even if he did deserve it. You're underestimating yourself. Again."  
"Or you're overestimating me," Bruce replied wryly, once again feeling stunned and overwhelmed by the affirmation that Tony so regularly heaped upon him.  
"Now you're just talking shit and you know it," Tony glared and poked his friend in the chest. "I trust you. You've got my back. You've got all of our backs. And that half of yourself which keeps everything on a lease and loves to waltz on rainbows and strew confetti around – that part of you also has Loki's back. So help me God. And that's what's so awesome. If you weren't here, I could never have invited Loki back. Bless his heart, he's terrified of you – and you're terrified of him. Kinda... keeps us all neutral and keeps us on the straight and narrow."

Bruce slowly nodded. "That makes sense – in a particularly disturbing Stark-brand type of insanity kind of way. Which I can kinda understand. Which disturbs me all the more..." Then he frowned. "But I don't waltz on rainbows. Or strew confetti."

"But you would if you could."  
"No, I wouldn't."  
"OK. That was perhaps a little bit of an exaggeration."  
"And I happen to be a dog person, thank you very much."  
"Really?" Tony asked curiously. "I had you for turtles. Or something. Well, see, we learn something new everyday. Hey – what's this all about? Are you sure you input the coordinates in there the right way – this looks kinda funny to me –"

And with that Tony steered the conversation adroitly away from Loki and the Christmas craziness and watched as Bruce slowly relaxed, once again delving into the world he knew and loved. Much later, rather early in the morning, the two separated, unspoken thanks between them.

-0-0-0-

Loki, wincing, slid further down in his plush seat and sighed. _When is this monstrosity called entertainment going to be over_, he wondered. Not that that the women weren't beautiful. Not that the dancing was not a form of some kind of art. There was something vital about the energy behind the high-kicks and a kind of beauty in the slim lines of bodies, the robust busts and well-tailored uniformed costumes which highlighted the endlessly long legs atop high heeled footwear.

_Obviously Midgard had an unhealthy fascination with gaudy glamour, shimmering splendour and glittering pageantry just as much as the Aesir. It might even be worse_, Loki glared. _And I must be here to 'enjoy' and 'embrace' the wretched mortals' concept of art. _

"Aren't these seats wonderful?" asked Jane, leaning toward Loki, ignoring the dejected slump of his shoulders. "I never had front row seats like these before. Mr. Stark is so generous, don't you think?"  
"Absolutely," Loki drawled coolly. "I would rather he kept it to himself, however, and left me well alone."  
"Loki," the young woman stared at the dark-haired ex-God and sighed, but then her attention was drawn away by Thor's hand on her arm, pointing out some new extravaganza which had been revealed by the red curtains opening.

_Not that there is anything wrong with some dancing_, Loki continued, content to be the small black cloud which rained on everyone's parade. _Although watching Volstagg and his wife attempt the quadrille had always amused me as much as Thor and Sif taking the floor when they were angry at each other... it becomes rather dull if it takes itself too seriously. If I had my way, if I had my magic, I would not be here torturing myself with this kind of spectacle in this kind of company._

_But you have to be here_, that other part pointed out._ And it could be worse. You could be the latest entertainment for the Other and his generals. You could be at HIS feet begging for a moment of peace – you could be on Svartalheim, running like a beast before the dogs. This is no more of a burden than the long hours of mindless feasting in Asgard. _

Loki sighed. He hated it when he proved himself wrong. Or right. Or... He frowned and glanced around apprehensively. Jane on his left. The Man of Iron on his right. He didn't appear to have spoken out loud. After five minutes, he began to realize that his hands were beginning to tremble with the tension. He cursed himself mentally – _pull yourself together, Loki. It is but a little song and dance. A festival spectacle that will soon be over. _

But it had been far too long since he had sat surrounded by so many who could so easily turn on him and make his life hel. Memories of sitting alone, surrounded by drunks, unpleasantly sober as he shot back quick retorts in reaction to the drunken slurs cast his way. And the days when he did succumb to the drink. On those days, caution was thrown to the winds and the God of Chaos came out to play... _How many times did you wake up in a pool of your own vomit or blood, knocked out by an offended warrior who took umbrage to a poorly executed __trick?_ Thor would find him, even then, and help him back to his room, chiding him for his carelessness. Something acrid and burning rose in his throat. Loki jerked upright.

He needed to get out. Get away.

"I must needs find the washroom," he whispered to Jane and then Tony as he rose and edged his way out to the aisle and made his way quickly to the men's washing room. It was a luxurious building, he supposed. Rich and ornate and reminding him vaguely of the various sitting rooms dotted around the palace. The ones full of chattering women and men who played cards, whilst smoking pipes similar to that of the dwarves. Even the washing rooms were old-fashioned. Although it was hard to tell since his only experience with washing rooms was Tony's extravagantly modern tower, the dank hideout which had been a temporary base with Barton's Son and the Son of Selvig and SHIELD's cell.

Once inside, he found the room peculiarly empty. _Perhaps men's bodies, being stronger, have no need to use the facilities as much_, Loki theorized. _Or, as in Midgard, men have less need for toiletries._ Slowly washing his cool hands under warm water, Loki splashed some of the warmth onto his face and then slowly patted himself dry. One of the stall doors opened.

Bruce stepped out.

Paused at the sight of Loki, suddenly edging back to flatten himself (just a tiny bit) against the wall of the bathroom. Without a word, Bruce began to lather up his hands, eyeing the ex-God of Mischief speculatively and allowing a small smile to grace his lips at the sight of a wide-eyed Loki. He could hear the Other Guy chuckling darkly. Inside.

"Do gods use the bathroom?" he asked after a moment, forcing his mind away from the lure of violence.  
"Pardon?"  
"Do gods use the bathroom? The wash room – the uh, toilet?" Bruce jerked his head back to the row of urinals and stalls.

Comprehension setting in, Loki's face cleared, now bemused.

"I would say yes," Loki hesitated. "Although... Perhaps not with the singular frequency mortals seem to be accustomed to, however."  
"We have a word for people who go to the bathroom often," Bruce grinned. "Potty trotters. I guess to Asgardians, as a race, we're all potty trotters, huh."  
"You are such a person?"  
"Uh, no. Not more or less than the usual man. Just. Um. Not really so good with the, uh, crowd thing."  
"Brave admission."  
"You?"  
"I felt a little..." Loki paused and then added reluctantly. "Suffocated."  
"So you escaped to the washroom."  
"As did you," Loki bristled.  
"Yeah. So I did." Bruce smiled. "That makes the two of us. Aren't we a pair?"  
Loki smiled bitterly. "Two outcasts, two monsters unable to find comfort with the rest of the world within which we are trapped? Then, yes."  
"Ah. Heavy stuff."  
"I do not like this festival either."  
"Which part?" Bruce asked curiously.  
"All of it," was the grim reply.  
"Join the club. It's a crazy time of year – and I bet you haven't even started shopping yet."  
"Shopping?"  
"For your secret Santa. You know – going out to the market to, um, buy the gifts for the person you chose."  
"Shopping."  
"I'm sure in Asgard, you guys went shopping. Went to market."  
"In a manner of speaking, yes."  
"What did you enjoy buying?"  
"Hm. Not what Thor enjoyed, that is for certain," Loki began.  
"Wasn't asking about Thor," sighed Bruce. "What did you like to get?"  
"Are you spying for Barton?"  
"Uhhh... no. Are you this suspicious all the time?"  
"I must be, if I am to survive this entire endeavour," Loki said coolly. "At any rate, the answer is that I preferred to go alone. So as to take the time that I may need. Most often I would frequent the herbalists' stalls, the traders in crystals and precious metals most useful for casting spells. Spell books. Those were difficult to find, since sorcery was – is – is not encouraged on Asgard, particularly for combat."  
"Really? I would've thought you'd be the poster boy for weaponized magic."  
"I am one of a kind you might say," was Loki's sharp reply. He laughed then, a cutting laugh, Bruce winced at the sound. Like glass. "In more ways than one."  
"I see... So men don't use magic in combat."  
"Men who are real men. That is, warriors do not make it a habit to use magic at all. Only the elderly or women. And of course, All-Father."  
"And yourself."  
"Yes."  
"And so if you went shopping, you'd hunt out books and stuff for your um, magic and learning and things."  
"In a manner of speaking, yes."  
"Huh. Well, I guess we have something else in common besides not liking public entertainment shows," Bruce's brown eyes met Loki's green ones with a smile.

Loki tipped his head and blinked in surprise and for a second, his shoulders shifted a bit downward, releasing the tension in his slight frame. Starting up the small white machine, Bruce dried his hands off and then turned back, hands in his pockets, to face the thing – the being – he hated, feared and pitied most of all in the world. It was odd that this opportunity would arise so quickly for him. _And here, of all places_, he shook his head, eyes tracing the patterns on the floor beneath his feet. _Stranger things have happened._

"Well, if you think this is bad," Bruce said with a sigh. "Wait until the girls start making us decorate stuff."  
"Decorations?" Loki looked horrified. "Oh no, no, you must be jesting. Surely the Man of Iron has many servants or hired free-men to deal with such –"  
"Yeah, you wish." Bruce stepped around and patted Loki on the arm, deciding to ignore how Loki stiffened back into a ball of tense muscles at his touch. The Other Guy chuckled. Again. He was a real barrel of laughs tonight. "C'mon, let's go. They're gonna think we're starting a fight in here, or worse, making out."  
"You make no sense, Son of Banner."  
"It's Bruce."  
"Bruce."  
"You don't know what making out means? Well. Never mind. It was a bad joke anyway."  
"I do not appreciate you jesting at my expense, Bruce," Loki said stiffly.  
"It was a joke at both of our expenses. That make you happy? Let's go. You don't want your brother coming in here and busting up the place with a misguided sense of worry?"  
"Thor is not my brother."  
"Just 'cause you keep saying that, doesn't make it true. Let's go. We can't hide in here forever."  
"We are not hiding, Son of – Bruce."  
"Then, let's get going."

They slipped out and slowly walked back to the double-doors which opened out to the main auditorium. Loki's hand stole out and grabbed Bruce's brown and green sweater at the elbow, jerking him to a stop.

"This matter of decoration..." Loki asked. "When – how will it happen?"  
"Dunno," Bruce shrugged. "But when it does, we'll all know it's happening. Trust me."

-0-0-0-

"Loki! Loki! Where is he? Jane – I think he's run off again. Thor! Get your brother back here. We need another set of long legs. Clint – I see you! I need these guys wrapped up. The scissors and tape are over there. Thor – what – go get Loki!"  
"I can do it," Steve pointed out. "Loki is probably not the –"  
"Not tall enough. I want the garland to go there and there – Tony! What the heck are you doing? Get out from that bar, put down that drink – at this rate, I can see that you're getting less than twelve percent of your share done!" Pepper shook her head and steered Tony away from his alcohol to join Clint at the table, wrapping empty boxes.

Tony stared at the wrapping paper with disgust. _Who wraps boxes for decoration? Seriously?_

"Here he is," Thor reappeared, a furious Loki in tow and a resigned Bruce. "Brother. Let us aid Lady Pepper – then you may be free to do as you please."  
"If I could do as I please," Loki muttered, forced onto a chair across from his brother, holding up a garland. "I would be disposing of your bodies in the most gruesome ways imaginable and instating on Midgard a much less moronic concept for a winter festival than this one."  
"I feel that this festival is a fascinating celebration," Thor disagreed good-humoredly. "Did you hear about the magical being who brings free gifts to everyone all around Midgard?"  
"The so-called Santa Claus?" Loki huffed. "I do not believe it. Trust me, Thor, these Midgardians are as dishonest as myself."  
"Loki!"  
"And that is a compliment, if you please."  
"You may claim to know everything of all the Nine Realms, brother," Thor gave Loki a sharp look. "But you cannot truly believe that. After all, if you had, the Avengers' strength would not have surprised you so."  
"Who said I was surprised?" Loki sniffed. "I –"  
"Loki! Thor!" Pepper was waving at them. The two gods turned to look down at the short woman, standing and glaring up at them, hands on her hips. "Lower! And Thor, your end needs to go up higher. Higher. Yeah. There. Wait. Can you use this –" She held up a screw. "You should find a hole from last year."  
"I – wait – I believe I found it! Mission accomplished successfully!" Thor beamed at his brother, who sagged against his bit of wall and wished that the Green Beast could emerge from wherever he hid within the Son of Banner and render him unconscious.

After affixing that garland, the two tall Asgardians were enslaved to hanging the rest of the green garlands all around the rooms and hallways. Then there was the matter of lighting which involved testing strings of small glass objects which lit up in spastic rhythms. Loki, as a child, might have been amused, but years – thousands of years later – after the Void, after the wastes of Svartalheim and the dark pit – he found himself oddly sensitive to the flashing lights. It was tacky. It was extreme. It was Thor.

He hated it. He loved hating it.

"Yep," Bruce squatted down to join him, flicking the small box at one end to still the lights so that they glowed softly. "The Christmas I know and love to hate."

Loki's head jerked up at Bruce's odd echo to his thoughts. His eyes narrowed. _Does the Beast have the ability to read minds as well? Impossible. _Just the idea that of a psychic Beast made Loki nervous and he shifted away from Bruce just a little bit.

"For being the God of Lies, you don't seem to have your guard up as usual. I can tell what you're thinking pretty easily," Bruce explained quietly. "And we're always watching you."  
"How... comforting," Loki said sourly.  
"Yeah. I thought so too. Join the club. Not the same club as the other club I mentioned. I mean. There's the Hate Christmas Club. And the Being Watched All The Time Club... Never mind. I'm not making sense anymore, am I?" He squinted sideways at Loki, to find the ex-God giving him yet another bemused stare.  
"You speak a little like him now," Loki finally noted. "Like the Man of Iron. Stark."  
"Yeah. I guess he rubs off on you, doesn't he?" Bruce grimaced. "If I take to drinking copious amounts of alcohol and hitting on anything that moves, let me know so I can defenestrate myself."  
"Why do it yourself?" Loki replied smoothly. "I am more than willing to help a person to their own death."  
"Loki. God of Assisted Suicide. I can see it, somehow. Why didn't we think of that one before?" Bruce plugged in another string of lights. These ones were not coloured in gold, purple and red; rather, a soft icy blue which glowed with a strange ethereal shimmer. "These aren't so bad."  
"Yes." Pause. "Very cold. It reminds me of..." Loki hesitated.  
"Of what?" Bruce prompted gently.  
"Nothing." Loki replied flatly. "It reminds me of nothing."

"How's it going?" Pepper and Jane were now hovering over the strings of lights carefully disentangled by the two men. "Any ones not working?"  
"So far? No," Bruce held up a strand. "You can get these two to Thor and Steve. We'll have the rest checked out in a few more minutes."  
"OK. After that, you guys can go to the kitchen and relax," Jane smiled at them. "I think Pepper's got some hot chocolate going. Natasha'll be handing it out in a few seconds. OK?"  
"Sure. Uh, thanks," Bruce smiled up at the young woman gently.  
"Many thanks..." Loki finally gritted out when Bruce nudged him not so surreptitiously.  
"Be nice."  
"I do not feel like being nice."  
"Fake it then," Bruce shot back. "Should be easy for you to lighten the mood."  
"What is that supposed to mean?" Loki replied coldly.  
"You're the God of Lies. And Mischief. Figure it out."  
"I do not see why it should fall to me."  
"We don't need more negativity around here. We've got enough problems without you going around like some kind of Scrooge."  
"Scrooge."  
"We'll get around to it. More Midgardian tradition."  
"Is this another derogatory remark?" asked Loki, miffed.  
"Could be," Bruce replied absently, as he plugged in another strand of lights. "Depends. OK. That was the last one. Hot chocolate? What am I saying, you don't have a say. Up up up."  
"I protest," Loki complained.

But he followed the quiet doctor into the kitchen. If the Beast could carry the burden of the season so lightly, so could he._ I am Loki after all. This is my chance to prove that I can be something... something more than nothing. I am Loki, even if I am naught but a weak mortal. Even in this weak flesh, I will one day show my greatness._

* * *

**More chatty Tony. More of reluctant, snarky Loki. More of Bruce, in general. Hope it's an okay cup of tea for everyone! Let me know... (on tenterhooks) **

**UP NEXT... The Girls' Secret Santa Reveal - and Loki's Wishlist... kyehehehehehehehehe  
**


	21. If Wishes Were Fishes

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

To Guest Reviewer: I'm sorry but Loki isn't going to be feeling mischievous until much later in the fic! I hope you can hang in until then! He's pretty much whumped to death right now...

**OK. A few things.**

**First, this fic is going to take up at least... (calculates and double-checks her notes)... 38 chapters. You've been warned. So if you're looking for happy!Loki, mischievous!Loki any time soon, I'm sorry, but it's not going to happen. Loki is not OK. He may have periods where he seems to come up for air – but he's still very much drowning in his past and his memories and his regrets.**

**Secondly, the Avengers aren't going to be 'heroic' in the purest sense of the term. They will be humans. Not good or evil straight up (per se) humans but humans. I think that heroes should have some flaws and even the best of us can carry grudges. Now, I'm from a strong-ish Dutch background and I don't carry any grudges against Germans – but I'm surrounded by good people (generally speaking) who have unspeakable grudges against the Japanese (for example). And they are ordinary people who are just trying to live their lives, but get them started on WW2 and it's like it isn't even over. So, if there are people in this world who can't get over something that happened over 50 years ago, how easy do you think it would be to forget something that happened 5 years ago? The Avengers are good people – but not ALL of them can be THAT good. C'mon now!**

**ALSO - girl talk is one kind of dialogue that I struggle with. Which isn't a surprise since I don't do girl talk in real life...  
**

**2nd Edit: Have gone back and tweaked a few things...  
**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**  
Chapter 21

If Wishes Were Fishes

"I don't know just who to blame for this catastrophe!  
But my one wish on Christmas Eve is as plain as it can be!...  
Gee, if I could only have my two front teeth..."  
("All I Want For Christmas (Is My Two Front Teeth) – sung by Spike Jones)

"What do you get the man who has everything?" Jane sighed, sitting down rather heavily on the couch.

Behind her, Pepper was hanging up her coat, gloves, scarf and hat, still wet from the snow which had continued to fall throughout the afternoon that day. After a long stint in the office, there was nothing that Pepper wanted more than a long soak in Tony's jacuzzi... _Or maybe the hot tub._ Looking over at Jane's slumped shoulders, Pepper smiled as a thought began to form.

"Long day?" she asked sympathetically.  
"Compared to yours, probably not. Just... trying to shop. And failing." Jane wrinkled her brow as she turned to look at her new friend. "It's a zoo out there – and trying to keep Thor at your side is like trying to walk twenty Huskies and Labradors at one time."  
"I can imagine. Hey... You know, I just got this idea." Pepper slipped off her cardigan. "How about a girl's night – in the hot tub?"  
"Hot tub?"  
"Well, I call it a tub," Pepper laughed. "But, thanks to Tony's... previous... pursuits, it's more like a tiny pool. But it's a hot tub – complete with, you know, the awesome jets which are just – so – relaxing. What do you think?"  
"That sounds amazing!" Jane got up, paused. "Hey, d'you think Natasha would be interested?"  
"I bet she would be, if her day was anything like ours. JARVIS – is Natasha in?"  
"Yes, Miss Potts. She is just finishing her exercise routine," the AI responded briefly.  
"Can you ask her if she'd like to join us for a girl's hot tub relaxation evening? I don't know if she's got something to wear –" Pepper paused and turned to Jane who had started down the hallway. "Jane, if you'd like, you could try out some of my things. End of the hall. Here, let's have a look-see."

Within minutes, Jane was slipping into her room, rooting out her towel and stripping down to try on the three outfits that Pepper had suggested she try. The second option, a black two piece with a smaller top, was her final choice and, emerging from her room, she smiled at Pepper who was similarly dressed except in something a little more revealing and dark red. Further down the way, the elevator doors slid open, from which emerged Natasha, who also looked like she needed a bit of R and R.

"Oh..." Pepper hesitated at the sight of Natasha's black workout tank and exercise shorts. "Natasha – if you want –"  
"It's fine," Natasha smiled, tipping her red head slightly to the side, mouth quirking up a little in amusement. "Just let's get there already. I don't know about you guys, but a little relaxation goes a long way."  
"Yeah," Jane wrapped her bathrobe a bit more tighter around here, noticing that the open living room seemed emptier than usual. "No kidding."

Glancing at Pepper, Jane wondered if she could ask Natasha what was capable of tiring out a government agent – _if she is a government agent_, Jane hesitated. _Asking these kinds of questions could potentially make a whole ton of awkward... awkwardness._ She settled for smiling at Natasha.

"If we're going to survive this Christmas," she said brightly, following Pepper as the woman stepped back into the elevator and pushed a button for the floor below. "I think we're going to need all the relaxation we can get now. While we have the time and sanity to enjoy it."  
"Yeah," Natasha nodded.  
"Jane was shopping today," Pepper shook her head.  
"And you were in the office," Natasha noted.  
"Yes, well, Christmas time actually means more craziness than you would think. The board always seem to get obsessed about the smallest things. Ah. Here we are, ladies! I had JARVIS start it up already."  
"JARVIS, you're amazing," sighed Jane as she discarded her towel and bathrobe carefully on the side of the huge hot tub and slipped in.  
"Thank you, Miss Foster," replied the AI, just a tad bit smugly.  
"Ahhhhh... this hits the spot," Pepper sighed as the water lapped over her shoulders. "Oh yes... A perfect way to end a long day of work. You didn't have a mission, did you, Natasha –" The red-head stopped and then frowned. "I mean, sorry... Tony doesn't talk about tons of things with me, I mean, I see stuff, but, uh, if you can't say – I totally understand. I'm babbling. Babbling."  
"No, it's OK," Natasha sighed deeply and contentedly. "Just debriefing and writing up some reports and then hitting the gym. My muscles have been feeling a bit more sore than I would like lately..."  
"Nothing like a hot tub to cure those aches."  
"Yep, just what the doctor ordered."

A short silence.

"So... what do you get a man who has everything?" Jane's question broke the silence.  
"Tony, huh." Natasha cocked an eyebrow. "That would be a hard one."  
"I don't know him very well either," the scientist admitted.  
"Gift card," Pepper splashed a little over to double-check a text that had dinged. "Wine shop. Starbucks. Something like that."  
"He's a scientist in his own way, isn't he?" pointed out Natasha. "Maybe you can get him something with scientific value, from one scientist to another."  
"Hmmm..." Jane mused. "That might be something I'll have to think on some more."  
"This is supposed to be a secret Santa." Pepper shook her head with a sigh. "Somehow I don't think it'll be so secret before this is all over."  
"That's what you get when you have superheroes and assassin spies involved."  
"Hey, play fair, Natasha," Pepper swatted playfully at the red-head. "No cheating!"  
"I've got Steve," Natasha replied bluntly. "I'm thinking of getting him something old-fashioned. Something that'll bring back memories of the good old days. Or something."  
"Um, that sounds... nice," Jane said tentatively. "Like a knick-knack? Or a picture? Or..."  
"Something he might have seen back then? A movie series? Or some black-and-white talkies?" Pepper mused aloud.  
"Music."  
"Ohhh..." Jane sat up, slicking back her long, blonde hair. "I know... how about getting one of those record players that you can get on sale. I'm sure JARVIS could help you find an affordable record player!"  
"Hey! That's an amazing idea, Jane! See what happens when we put our heads together! I swear, if it was us running SHIELD, things would be a lot different," Pepper laughed. "Just saying.  
"Men. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em." Natasha rolled her eyes in agreement. "I don't know how Agent Hill survives it, cooped up on that helicarrier all day, every day." She paused then and considered Jane's suggestion. "I think that would work, Jane. Clint has an old music shop he likes to check into once in awhile. If I get a cheap player, I could snag a few records from there."  
"Wow. I knew we just had to talk about this," Pepper leaned back to dip her hair in the water, enjoying the hot water as it soaked into her now very relaxed scalp. "There's nothing like a good plan for Christmas to bring order out of the chaos."  
"Who did you get?" asked Jane.  
"Uhhh..."  
"Just tell," Natasha shrugged, nudging the personal assistant. "It's not like the guys aren't going to have a confab either. Bless their hearts."  
"It's Clint," confessed Pepper.  
"Cologne."  
"Oh?" Jane and Pepper blinked at the SHIELD operative, a little flumoxed by the quick reply.  
"Cologne. Not a strong scent. Something... woody and subtle."  
"One Million... or Aramis... There are tons," Jane put in. "I'm sure JARVIS could come up with a list." She blushed. "I was looking at some to get for Thor."  
"Yeah," Pepper agreed. "Those guys can get awfully sweaty after an hour with the Doombots. You should have smelled the inside of Tony's suit after he stepped out the Mark I. Back before he got the whole dismantling mechanism set up."  
"I pass," Natasha shook her head.

Another few minutes of silence disturbed only by the quiet ripple of water as it sloshed against the side of the hot tub. Pepper sat up for a second and smiled.

"I just remembered that we need one more thing to make this the perfect evening. Drinks."  
"Not alcohol, no thanks," Natasha said, eyes still closed.  
"No. Something cool, though." Pepper got up. "Something virgin."

She disappeared behind a small bar in the corner of the room and came back with three glasses of what looked like orange juice. Accepting hers, Jane sighed as the cool juice offered some hydration and a sharp contrast to the heat rising around her. Beside her, on her right, the tall windows of Tony Stark opened out onto the snow-white laden vista of New York. It was like nothing she had ever seen.

_One day, I'm a fringe scientist running after something no one wanted to believe in, the next thing, I'm hitting a Norse God..._ She giggled to herself. _Hitting on a Norse God. Badly. And now, I'm in Anthony Stark's penthouse in his hot tub!_

"Are you sure there isn't anything in this," Natasha eyed Jane and her drink.  
"This isn't alcoholic," Pepper assured her. "Just some punch. We're going to have to keep our heads clear if we're going to plan out the rest of Christmas."  
"We don't have to have it ALL planned out," Jane said quickly, noticing a slight wrinkle mar Natasha's forehead. "Just the basics."  
"Like what we're going to do next."  
"With Loki?" sighed Natasha. "Now I feel all better."  
"Sorry," Pepper sighed. "JARVIS, please take note of our conversation, if you don't mind. For future reference."  
"Beginning now, Miss Potts."  
"OK, well, there's the whole getting a tree thing and cookies and I think I heard Mr. Stark, I mean, uh... I heard him say something about an all-meat buffet for Christmas..." Jane began. "We made a list already – it's on the white board."  
"In Tony's lab," Pepper reminded her. "And hidden. We don't want Loki thinking we're controlling his life."  
"We are controlling his life," Natasha smirked. "But I guess it'd bruise his pathetic ego to find that out. Ha. Lying to the God of Lies. This is going to be good."  
"Yeah, about that, how's the Operation Santa is Real going?" asked Pepper curiously.  
"I haven't said anything. Much," Natasha found herself smiling again as she remembered Loki's uncertain face. "If they were ordinary humans, they'd have been on the internet already and searching out the information. But I guess even a smartass like Loki has his limitations."  
"It's rare to get an opportunity like this," agreed Pepper, taking another sip from her punch. "Kind of funny, if you ask me."  
"I guess," Jane sighed. "Don't you feel a little guilty about it, though? Thor means so well. He wanted to meet Santa Claus - so last I heard, Tony's going to take him to some mall..."  
"Right, yes. That'll be tomorrow - Manhattan Mall. Show him a Santa. Hey... we should get Loki to take a picture too!"  
"Loki on Santa's lap." Natasha cocked her head. "Clint's going to want to be there. I'll try to get him to play cool."  
"I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe it's Christmas time. Already!" Jane smiled softly.  
"Neither can I," sighed Natasha. "Yet here we are."  
"It'll be OK," Pepper said comfortingly. "It'll work out."  
"I hope so."

-0-0-0-

"Loki! Brother!"

At the sound of Thor's boisterous shout, Loki flinched and drew back from the doorway he stood in. His brother had returned, no doubt from sparring with the Soldier. Tony and Bruce were bent over yet another tablet poking at something moving on the screen. Thor was jumping out of the couch where he had been sitting, watching yet another strange Midgardian winter sport.

"Come see this incredibly entertaining game. It is almost as bloodthirsty as Volstagg's arm wrestling!"  
"I remember Volstagg's arm wrestling," Loki said waspishly, jerking back. "If there was one memory, I could give to the Void with no desire for its return, it would be Volstagg during the winter season."  
"Come now," Thor's blue eyes beamed at his brother, still undimmed by Loki's obvious disgruntlement. "It was not all that bad."  
"It was."  
"Was not."  
"Was too."  
"Was not.  
"Was –" Loki suddenly pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and huffed out, "I cannot believe that we can still recreate this childish game of ours."  
"You could just agree with me," Thor said simply. "Come sit. I swear. It is indeed a most vivavious game involving some forms of strategy as well. On ice! The Son of Stark says that we may try to play this very same sport in the oncoming weeks if the ice freezes a little stronger."  
"What wonderful news," Loki replied sarcastically.

But he moved forward and found a seat on the edge of the long, black, leather couch, as far away as Thor's seat, hoping to keep some space between Thor and himself.

It was not to be.

After five minutes, Thor was once again, encroaching on his personal territory, arm around his shoulder, hollering in his ear whilst waving a glass bottle of some Midgardian mead. Loki, pursing his lips, considered his options. Sitting in the dark of his room. Scared stiff from the silence. Or. Sitting in the comfort of the living room. Bored out of his skull.

_...would you rather run to something or run to nothing? _

Loki sighed and sagged a little, succumbing to his fate ungracefully. _Succumbing to fate - that is my role in the grand scheme of life, is it not?_ When Tony brought over another glass bottle, he accepted it silently and sipped it with a grimace.

"Still like your sweet cocktails, huh?" Tony smiled. "I'll mix one up in a few minutes. Give me a 'mo."  
"It is no matter," Loki began (not entirely certain what a mo was - _ah well, never mind..._) but Tony flapped a hand amiably and disappeared to talk a bit more with the Beast._ Bruce. The kind doctor._ The doctor who seemed to listen more than most. Loki's eyes slid away when Bruce's brown ones rose a little, obviously feeling uncomfortable under Loki's long stare.

Glaring at the large screen which showed a group of men moving around – in circles and up and down a white ice field – with sticks and a flat disc shap, Loki wondered if his entire winter would be spent this way.

_Is this satisfactory, Loki? Do you even have a choice? In reality, no. There is nothing but the cold and hunger waiting outside for you. And after this winter season, there will be nothing but the cold and hunger still waiting. Cold. Hunger and sharp humiliation. Heimdall and Odin still laughing at you. Thor still... being Thor. The Avengers and the dark organization behind them still watching your every move. The Son of Stark still laughing... Laughing at you - us - me. Because the awful truth is that I am no better than my father. My real father. My real not-father. Laufey. Laughable._ Loki's lips turned up in a bitter, empty smile. _Laughable's son. _

"Brother."

It was Thor. His blue eyes were suddenly too concerned, worried and sharp for Loki's comfort. He frowned at the god and let his face harden in response.

"What is it now, Thor?"  
"You looked..." Thor paused. "Never mind. Did you know but Son of Stark and Banner's Son and the others – they will be taking us to see the magical personage of Santa Claus? Tomorrow."  
"Surely not the actual Santa Claus himself," corrected Loki tiredly. "Do you not remember what the Man of Iron said? I swear, Thor, it is as if your mind is like a sieve."  
"I remember!"  
"Then you will remember that if we were to see such a thing, it is merely seeing one manifestation of this super being," Loki's eyes darted suspiciously to the two mortals who were still bent over the tablet. "If such a being exists."

The Beast was looking triumphant about something and the Man of Iron was looking rather more cocky than he did usually. Which was saying a lot. No doubt they had just made a new discovery in their petty magicks. _It reminds me of the days when I would find new secrets in the arts of magic... If I had my magic_, Loki sighed. _I would transport myself to the North of Midgard in a matter of seconds and discover the truth of the matter myself. _

"Come now, Loki," Thor's big blues begged his younger brother. "You must have faith, little brother – or you will receive nothing from him come Christmas morning."  
"I highly doubt I will receive anything but the traditional coal and sticks, Thor. Perhaps you have not noticed, but this being, Santa Claus, a hero for Midgard, could hardly reward a monster such as I –"  
"You are no monster, little brother – you're my –" But Thor was overruled by Loki.  
"A monster such as I could hardly be rewarded, because of what I have done. However, justified I may believe myself to be –"  
"Loki –"  
"Therefore. Therefore," Loki swallowed and glanced away, his fingers rapidly clenching – unclenching – until he forced them to still, but even then, his fingers began to worry the edges of the cuffs of his worn green tunic. "Therefore, it would be a fool who would expect anything but punishment for the things I have done. I am no fool."  
"You have been punished enough, brother," Thor's arm drew Loki close, but Loki was having none of it. "I am sure this Claus can understand."

The slighter god tried to pull away. Thor held firm.

"We can believe together," he insisted.  
"Of course you would say something like that," Loki snorted, trying to battle down his anger and failing miserably. "Foolish as ever. Even now."  
"If you will not join me, I will believe enough for the both of us – you can make the wish."

Loki looked up then, meeting Thor's steady gaze, green eyes wide with disbelief and hurt. Green eyes that brimmed with unshed tears of despair and rage and Thor felt the muscles tensing in the slender back before Loki shot up and away – off the couch. Turning and glaring down at Thor, arms quivering and face screwed up with the conflict of emotions.

"Make a - make a wish! MAKE A WISH!" Loki's voice ended on a rather shrill note, deep breaths heavy and ending with a tremble closer to a sob than an angry roar. "We are not children, Thor. We are not petty, weakling, mewling mortals who pray to those they cannot see. We are the beings they can but look up to as if we were the very stars in the universe. The very universe in which they live and can barely comprehend even now."

Bruce and Tony jerked away from their tablet, Bruce easing back to watch Loki carefully while Tony edged around the bar and began to mix some drinks with a vehemence. Alcohol. They needed alcohol right now. For him. Of course.

"And I – I – I am to make a wish? And what kind of wish can a god make, brother?" He spat the last word as if it were a curse. "And who will listen and answer my pleas? Who was listening and failed to answer the ones that spilled from my lips during my – my imprisonment and debasement and humiliation?"  
"What did you ask for?" Thor asked, his hands still, shoulders braced for the full fury he knew would come.

_A man of courage_, Bruce thought. _In more ways than one._

"JARVIS!" Loki glared up at the ceiling as though the AI could materialize somehow before him. "Take note of Loki Noone's Son's Christmas wishlist. That everyone may know the impossibility of such puking faith!"  
"Uhhh... I don't really want to know about impossibilities," mumbled Bruce. "Now I'm going to be depressed."  
"I'm with you on that one," Tony sighed. "Top of my wishlist is 'Attitude Adjustment for Loki'. But Santa should answer that one pretty quick – since it isn't even for me. I'm such a self-sacrificing person, aren't I, Bruce?"  
"Sure."

Loki, as if suddenly realizing the two men were there, glared at them and Bruce realized uneasily that the ex-God was crying. Again. But he had an uncomfortable feeling that Loki wasn't even really aware of it.

Tony was though. Tony hated other people's messy emotions and Bruce could feel the genius billionaire already backpedalling, mumbling about needing to hand out alcohol all around. At any rate, Loki took a couple of deep breaths, twitched away and paced up and down, calming down just a little. Marshaling his thoughts. The other men in the room braced themselves for the usual Loki vitriole.

"How does this request begin, I wonder?" Loki asked, caustically.  
"A letter." Tony finally spoke up after his third gulp of scotch. "Generally, we write letters. Dear Santa, I've been a good boy this year. I'd like... blah blah blah. I used to write really long ones. It was pretty interesting to see if Santa could get anything right for that year."  
"Really?" Loki tipped his head. "A letter? Well, then. I shall begin with a 'Salutations to Mr. Claus. Santa Claus'... Whatever denotation that would suffice. He is after all, a lesser being, even if he be not mortal."  
"Good way to get him warmed up to you," Tony snorted.

Thor shot Tony a dark look, to which the genius responded with a quick shrug and 'Hey! He's not killing anyone yet!' look.

"'This year, if we go by the Midgardian calender, I have not committed any great crimes nor have I embarked on any plots of mischief or chaos – through no fault of my own, I assure you – but the record, I would say, this year, is in the main, clear.'"  
"Except for stealing Pepper's money," Tony had to put in. "We won't count the wood though."

Loki gave Tony a hard stare.

"'Excepting for stealing Lady Pepper's monies,'" Loki added, gritting his teeth. He continued, the sarcasm layering his speech was so thick, if it had been icing on a cake, Bruce doubted the Hulk would be able to get his mouth around it. "'Therefore, I submit the following wishlist for your perusal in hopes that your august personage will be able to grant me some happiness in the months or lifetime following.'"  
"Sounds grand," Bruce had to admit, impressed. "My letters never sounded like that."  
"'Item One: Complete destruction of –'" Loki paused, hands now meeting together, knotting and threading through each other, twisting painfully and uneasily. For a moment, his face fell frightfully blank and Tony sighed, remembering that night they had shared those drinks. Loki was attempting to hide something – something so strong it could not help but leak out. It passed over Loki's expressive face – a flash of terror. "No. No. Erase that one, JARVIS. We do not mention that name. We do not speak of it – Loki – we – I – we must never speak of it –"  
"Erasure complete."  
"Yes. Well," Loki nodded and struggled on. "'Item One: Return of magic. Item Two: Return to...'" Loki frowned and his hands twisted each other even more tightly, the knuckles turning white. "I beg pardon, that last one. That one is not..."  
"Erasure complete," repeated JARVIS.

_Poor bastard_, Tony sipped his scotch. _He actually believes there is no home to return to. __Really has nothing going for him. Kinda pathetic. Even I never sunk that low. _

"'Item Two: Indefinite Delay to Thor's Coronation..." A quick glance down at Thor. "Silence, Thor." He smirked then. "I can hear you thinking it. Item Three: A Chance to Visit... Fr – to visit – to visit," he managed to get it out a little hoarse, back turned to the others, face now tinted blue as the silent hockey game's glow fell on his profile. "'A Chance to See Mother. One last time. Not to – not to – I just want to say...'"  
"Loki," Thor was on his feet now, face drawn, his own eyes heavy with grief.

Loki's anger had now stolen away, leaving only a trembling husk, too tired to continue on. Tony and Bruce did not twitch a muscle, not wishing to break the spell. Bruce found himself hoping that whatever was keeping the other Avengers busy would continue to do so. This was obviously something the brothers needed to get out between them. It was a chance for Loki to be honest.

_The way it sounds_, Bruce frowned. _He's not been able to be true to his deepest self for too long a time. Still. Even now. It's not enough. He needs... he needs to break. _

Loki stirred then, as if he was trying to move but found his limbs too heavy.

"Item Four. I –" He slowly shook his head.

Thor's hand rose and his fingers once again fell on his brother's shoulder, clasping his neck, as they had in the old days. _In the old days when I thought us friends. In the old days, when I thought us whole. You are right, Loki, in so many ways, I was a fool. A fool with a heart. How that burned you so. But to have faith is not foolishness. To have hope is not weakness. It is another kind of strength. A strength you lost long ago. Let me lend that strength to you. _

Without further words, Thor drew him into a warm hug, his arms seemed to wrap around his brother too easily as he pulled Loki's shoulders in closer. It was strange to see Loki so unresponsive, as though Thor was not even there, the ex-God's arms hanging limply as his side. Face buried in the crook of Thor's neck.

"'Item Four,'" he whispered and then fell into the old speech. His voice muffled against Thor's shoulder and long blonde hair. "'Then, let it be as if I had never been born.'"

* * *

**Ummm... Is this laying it on too thick? BE HONEST... **

**Otherwise, all together now... AWWW! **

**Loki, you are almost there! Almost!**


	22. Naughty and Nice

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Reply to guest reviewer: I'm glad that the uber angst moment wasn't over the top! Hope you can continue to enjoy it!

**Writing the last chapter was bizarre... this story has basically written itself – in so many ways, i can't describe. And the last chapter was both hard and easy. It came to me like a dream, in a way, and like the rest of the story, I hardly put any effort into the writing. Of course, my brain is working when I write – hahaha – but what I mean is, that this story is kinda new for me, in the sense that I don't really sweat the details too much. Whatever comes comes.**

**So I began the Thor-Loki conversation with the idea that they'd sit down and write out an actual letter for the each of them to Santa. They still may (not sure), but instead, this last chapter (21) came out with this tragic but cute but so sad but so funny scene with Loki's wish list. **

**Writing fanfic is so bizarre at times. Isn't it?**

**12+ PAGES (6000 words) OF CHRISTMASY GOODNESS! I hope...**

* * *

Christmas Magic

Chapter 22  
Naughty and Nice

"You better watch out  
You better not cry  
You better not pout  
I'm telling you why  
Santa Claus is coming to town...

He's making a list,  
Checking it twice;  
Gonna find out who's naughty or nice.  
Santa Claus is coming to town..."  
("Santa Claus Is Coming To Town – sung by Frank Sinatra)

For a moment, no one moved. No one spoke. Bruce and Tony stood there, frozen, unwilling to break the spell – Bruce gripping his tablet, Tony gripping his scotch. Both of them, eyes wide and riveted on the two brothers in the middle of the room. Both of them hoping that no one would walk in. It was not to be.

Beyond the two brothers, the elevator door opened, revealing the three women all in various states of undress. Tony blinked at the sight of Pepper in her favourite bikini, obviously just come from his hot tub, now comfortably swathed in his hot tub bathrobe toweling. Natasha, toting a gun, eased back, ignoring the fact that she was in wet exercise gear and only wore a towel slung over her shoulder. Jane's eyes went straight to her boyfriend – but she literally froze mid-motion as she realized what was unfolding before her.

Thor and Loki still stood in the middle of the room, statuesque and strange in the light of the flickering TV. Behind them, a silenced commercial flashed from some kind of hair product (a beautiful, Asian girl showering) to one of those age old car adverts complete with spinning wheels and sharp turns. _Inconsequential. Loki's word_. Tony thought disjointedly. _This – this – this is what's important. Isn't it?_

His calloused, warm hand rubbing Loki's back, Thor said nothing, merely looking even more upset and red-eyed than usual. _He must have started crying at some point. I might start crying at some point. Maybe._ Loki's face has hidden. All you could see was his black hair, long and curly sticking out at odd angles as Thor's hand tangled in his hair. Minute by minute, slow second by slow second, Loki's breathing evened out and his back began to stiffen as awareness and consciousness returned. _But the question is – is Point Break going to let him go – again?_ Tony remembered the conversation outside the soup kitchen and what had happened on the sidewalk._ In the end, Thor pulls his hugs as much as his punches when it comes to his brother... _

When Loki's arms rose in mute protest, Thor's arms slowly drew away from the thin frame, his face incredibly weary and grieved. _What had Reindeer Games said?_

Loki turned his face away, teeth clenched, the muscles in his jaw bunched, obviously wishing he could take back those words which had fallen from his lips. _Those words. What did he say?_ Now Tony's curiosity was more than piqued. It was a tiger on the prowl. It needed answers. Now.

Thor said something then, softly. Loki stiffened, face flushing and then draining white. Then, he nodded slowly.

"How can you believe that?" Thor burst out. Now in English – and the words chilled Tony and Bruce – and the women. "Is that the only thing you can wish for in the end? Death?"  
"What else lies before me in the end, brother? Do not worry about my ramblings. They are nothing –"  
"Your death? It is something to me. It is something to our – our, do you hear me – our mother. Would you have her brought to Death's door again?"  
"Mother – she –" Loki turned to his brother, confused. "What nonsense are you spewing now, Thor? Mother was alive and well upon our... return..."  
"When Father told her how... you fell... We all believed you dead. We mourned. Maybe, not all of Asgard mourned in truth. But your family. I, your brother. Odin, your father. Frigga, your mother. My mother. Our mother. It was she who mourned the longest. For many, many years, she was inconsolable – even going so far as to contemplate a journey to Valhalla and Hel to scour for you there. She missed you, little brother. You were... always have been, always will be, her little Loki."  
"Thor," Loki's voice choked, a little strangled.  
"Who was it that you ran to when you were ill or scared or tired? When you felt most lonely? Who cut you fruit and gave you tea in the quiet of her private garden? Who praised you most when you brought to her the products of a craft no one would respect or acknowledge?"  
"Thor – let us speak of it no –"  
"No. You will listen to me, brother. You cannot make this wish – this death wish. If you were gone from this world –"  
"It would be a quieter, fairer place. Ask anyone."  
"That is lie, Loki." Thor's blue eyes were firm. "I cannot believe the infamous Liesmith would so readily fall for his own deceptions."

Loki's eyes flashed, for a second, promising the death that he seemed to wish for. His fingers twitched, but then he stepped back, shoulders shifting downward in a slump. Bruce and Tony could see from the tight lines of his face how tired the ex-God was. Tired and hyper-nervous from the tension.

"Leave the lies aside," Loki finally said. "And fret not. This spell, combined with the older ones weaved during Svartalheim, assure that no violence either from or to myself _or both_ can be accomplished successfully." He smiled bitterly. "Your brother is quite safe."

The unspoken admission weighed the air down heavily and Thor stared at Loki with such sadness, confusion and loss. _How could his prideful brother hate himself so much? To the point of attempting to end his own life..._ There was again – nothing that he could say. Nothing that he could do. Once again, faced with his brother again, Thor felt so powerless.

"Make your wish lists without me, Thor," Loki broke the silence wearily. "A person born from nothingness journeying to nowhere can no sooner hold faith than a sieve can hold water."

With that, Loki turned and stalked out, pausing only at the sight of the woman. His responding laugh at their muteness and pitying eyes was more self-flagatory than derogatory and Natasha watched as he slipped into his room without further comment.

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of breathing, traffic outside and then, as the elevator opened, Clint's and Steve's voices arguing over the merits of some kind of sporting equipment. No one ever figured out what they had been talking about because at the sight of the women and men inside the room still standing frozen, the two missing Avengers stepped forward, puzzled.

"What did we miss?" asked Clint.  
"What happened?" asked Steve at the same time.  
"Loki do something again?"  
"Clint... No, yes, no – I don't know," Tony flapped a hand. "Scotch? I need some more. You too, Point Break. Here try this on for size."

His hands were already pouring out a large libation for Thor who took it automatically, mind obviously far away, and absently drank the entire glass in one gulp. _Not surprising_, Tony thought. _Big Brother here just found out his baby brother is borderline suicidal. _

"Christmas time always does bring out the desperate a bit more than any other day of the year." Tony said aloud, following his train of thought. "I must say... this isn't what I had signed up for when I brought him in. Babysitting Loki, sure. Making sure New York stayed safe, no problem. Offering bed and shelter from the winter cold and putting meat on those bones, my pleasure. Instituting a suicide watch throughout the Christmas holidays, not so much."  
"Suicide what?" Steve stepped down into the living room, voice sharp.

The fire of the scotch brought Thor forcibly to the present.

"My brother is weary of life," he finally whispered, a little hoarse from the hard alcohol. And maybe emotion.  
"Thor," Jane was already by the God of Thunder's side, drawing him into a comforting hug. "He can't have really meant it. Not if he talked about it."  
"It might just be a heat of the moment thing," Natasha noted.  
"Or he's playing all of us and is laughing up his sleeve in his room as we speak," Clint snorted. "A pity party. A ploy for sympathy. It's his kind of thing."  
"Yes, it could be," Bruce agreed smoothly, whilst handing over his tablet to Tony without a word. "But I doubt it." His brown eyes met Clint's, silencing the man with a single look.

Steve, Natasha and Thor remembered uncomfortably the lab in the helicarrier. Over five years ago, when Bruce had admitted how desperate he had gotten. Tony accessed his security system and turned on the camera in the ex-God of Mischief's room. Loki was curled up, knees to his chest, arms around his knees in the corner of his room by the windows. Head bowed and looking incredibly small. Holding up the tablet wordlessly, so everyone could see how miserable Loki actually was, Tony tipped his head and gave Clint another look.

"What was his item four, Thor?"

Tony propped the tablet up and began to dispense drinks again. This time, Pepper came over to help, her hand brushing against his in comfort.

"Item four?" Jane asked.  
"What are you talking about now, Tony?' sighed Steve, not liking how out of the loop he always was.  
"Item four of Loki's wish list to Santa," Tony replied. "Quite a letter. Impressive, you said, right, Bruce? And kinda... well... telling. He can't go home. That's what he thinks, Steve. He thinks that there are no options for him – no way for him to change. None of us have ever sunk that low – well..." Here he glanced at Bruce. "None of us will sink that low as long as I am alive and Stark Tower stands. And – also, there was that whole destruction thing –"  
"Destruction?" Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Still got a plan, huh... I should've guessed."  
"Well, I don't know," Tony shook his head. "He didn't say exactly what he wanted to destroy."  
"Not Midgard," Thor said quickly.  
"No, it couldn't be us." Bruce nodded. "He would've said so right away. The crazy bastard never hesitates to show his disdain for us lowly mortals," he shrugged. "Must have been something else. Asgard?"  
"Loki loves Asgard," Thor shook his head, confused. "Asgard was – is – always will be Loki's home."  
"Uh. He doesn't speak well of Asgard whenever he talks about 'home'," Clint frowned. "He could be out to screw your folks over. Seems to blame your parents a ton for everything."  
"I don't know, Clint," Natasha frowned. "From his profile, it's quite clear he'll do anything to take care of Asgard. Anything. Even to the point of trying to kill Thor and attempting to wipe out some ice realm."

_And killing his own blood father_, Tony added mentally.

"But he could've gotten more crazy." Clint argued. "Like... really crazy... and you said it yourself. If he can't have it, no one will. Ultimately destructive."  
"Yeah... I did say that..." Natasha sighed.  
"Is there someone else that he'd want to destroy?" Pepper asked. "Someone else who hurt him or something?"  
"You might be onto something," Bruce frowned. "Did you see his face when he broke down, Tony?"  
"Yeah... I noticed that too. He was terrified. Is he terrified of Asgard?" Tony thought for a second. "I don't think he is. And he just went through hell in a handbasket during his imprisonment – you guys have no idea. Ask Thor. It involves pits and torture and a lot of time in the wild being hunted like an animal. Kinda epic. Whatever he wants to destroy, it's gotta be worse than the deep pit and the spellcasting dark elves of D&D and the corrupt gaurds and US and your parents and you, Thor. Who is worse than that?"

Clint stirred uneasily at the memory of Loki, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cavern they had claimed as a secret base for the creation of the machine that Selvig worked on. He had been busy – and completely focussed on the task. But his hawk eye couldn't help but be hyper aware about the fact that the staff would spark every now and then. And when it did, the dark, leather-clad man who was their leader would go away inside his head and come back looking more fatigued, more angry and more desperate than usual.

"What is it, Clint?"

Cursing Natasha's intuitive eye, the archer sighed.

"So. Behind the Chitauri was Loki, right? Or vice versa. Or something like that."  
"Yeahhhh..." Tony stiffened. "And?"  
"What if – what if behind Loki and the Chitauri there was something else?"  
"I don't remember that in the file," Steve frowned. "You withheld information?"  
"Not information, if it's just a hunch, Rogers. But he'd go away – Loki would go away – into his head and come back even more focussed. I thought it was just... I don't know. More than likely it's nothing."  
"Hm. Well," Tony sighed, after another sip of scotch, and turned to Thor. "That's another conversation for you and Loki at another time."

Thor turned his refilled glass around and around in his fingers, gaze focussed on the amber liquid. Jane squeezed his arm, comfortingly and rubbed his broad back with her small hand, feeling like there was too much going over her head. Turning to her, Thor managed a small smile, drawing her into a hug. Tony coughed and returned to the origin point of this spiralling conversation.

"I'm more interested in Item Four."  
"That's really bugging you, isn't it?" Bruce murmured. "I think we can all make a very good guess what was item number four on his wish list."  
"He made a wish list?" Natasha looked amused.  
"Yes, yes he did. Against all odds, kinda caved in and decided to humour Thor, isn't that right?" Tony affixed Natasha and then Thor with a steely glare. "And what a wish list. Remind us again – for those who came late too. Item One – return his magic."  
"Aw, hell no," Clint rolled his eyes. "So not gonna happen."  
"Be quiet, Barton," Steve turned to Tony. "OK. Return his magic. What else?"  
"Item Two was... delaying Thor's coronation. I guess he's still not sure you can handle the responsibility, huh? Well, yeah, anyways. Item Three. Visit his mother. Which is, well, surprising. You know, it's not every day you get a super villain who is – was – is still, I guess, a mama's boy."  
"Tony, shut up," Bruce nudged the billionaire as Thor finished his glass again and set it down, taking Jane's hand to pull her back to the hallway.  
"Item Four!" Tony's voice rose. "He spoke in your Nordic language thingy. I could get JARVIS to translate it – but why don't you let the others know. If I'm right, I'm sure it'll be Clint's unofficial Christmas present. A little early but welcome all the same."  
"Item Four." Thor turned a little, face in shadow, pausing at the corner of hall and living room, his broad hand gripping Jane's painfully tight. "'Then, let it be as if I had never been born.'"

He disappeared, Jane following closely.

"Well. Damn." Clint frowned.  
"Yeah. Couldn't say it better myself," Tony nodded.

Steve had to agree. Privately.

-0-0-0-

With this conversation still in mind a day later, the group of Avengers issued out to the Manhattan Mall to visit the 'manifestation of the super-being' as Loki called it. To say that everyone was a bit subdued was an understatement. The day following the argument, the entire group had split up for some quiet time, leaving Loki under the neverending gaze of JARVIS. Thor repeatedly tried to draw Loki out, but the ex-God of Mischief, Chaos and Lies was having none of it.

The day after, Thor beat down the door and dragged his brother out, declaring that Loki would have no choice but to accompany him to see the manifestation of Santa Claus.

"After all, brother, you said it yourself. This may be a clever ruse. If you have no belief, what better way than to see with your own eyes whether this is for true or no?"

Loki looked at Thor, then at Jane and Tony suspiciously.

"I am not your brother, Thor. And since when did you discover rationality?" He glared at the large hand which had fastened onto his left elbow and could not be removed by his right hand only. He cursed his weakness as he gave up and gave in. "Or has your company improved whilst I was incarcerated?"  
"Loki, come," Thor sighed, giving his brother 'the look'. "No amount of verbal sparring can dissuade me. Together, we go to see the verity of Santa Claus. It will be more interesting than counting the hairs of the rug in your bedroom."  
"I –" Loki sagged then. "Very well. But do not expect me to enjoy it."  
"Of course not. You will have a horrible time," Tony agreed with a grin. "And you'll love hating it."

They piled into Tony's car and Clint's car, Steve on his bike, and made their way to the Manhattan mall. Loki, staring out of the window, watching the streets pass by, feeling the heavy eyes of his keepers on him, sighed. _I have not arrived and already this feels like a burden. _

_What was it going to be like at the market place?_

-0-0-0-

_It is Hel. Hel. No. Forget that. It is worse than Hel_, Loki thought, as he stood there in the middle of a large, high-ceilinged room several floors high. Packed with blinking lights, glaring lights, the small Christmas lights and clashing colours. And the noise! The chatter of people and the grind of the metal and the clatter of footsteps and the strains of clashing music and the crinkling of market bags and shouts of children.

Standing there in his worn, brown-black leathers, long, black duster and fingerless dark navy gloves, Loki felt like an ink blot on a riotous quilt of many colours. Like a crow among cheery songbirds. Like a grey cloud passing over a blue sky. He stood there frozen as life jostled him, pushed past him, flowed around him, frowned at him, cursed quietly at him, screamed past him – He couldn't move for the weight of sense which bored down on him.

He could hear as if from far away, Barton's voice saying something ending with 'poor bastard'. But Loki couldn't respond – and when Thor's hand descended on his shoulder, it took all the willpower in the world to refrain from jerking back and tearing off his brother's arm.

"Let us get this done," he whispered harshly.  
"He's over here," Tony was motioning the way, where Pepper was already standing and making arrangements. "Pepper gave them a call, so they cleared it out for us. I guess that's yet another perk for being Tony Stark. We can get one-on-one consultations with Santa."  
"Or it might be the Avengers," Steve said, rolling his eyes at the usual display of Tony's ego.  
"That too. That can help. Let's go, Rudolph. Santa's waiting."  
"I am not interested in meeting him," Loki drew back again, suddenly slamming into his brother who was suddenly behind him, propelling him forward. "I merely wish to observe."  
"Well, you'll need to be closer than this to observe. Plus, it's quieter in the room. We had it cleared out."

Lured by a chance to get away from the pressing crowd, without reply, Loki stalked in, behind Bruce, Clint and Tony. Jane, Pepper, Natasha and Thor brought up the rear, letting Tony take the lead again. Tony was remarkably aplomb about the whole thing, playing it with a straight face. He sat on Santa's knee, flirted with Mrs. Claus and one of the elves who was rather svelte. A picture was taken with Tony and Santa. Tony, Pepper and Santa. Then Clint was pushed forward. Blustering he took at seat, flipping Tony the bird when the billionaire pointed out that Clint fit better on Santa's lap than he did. Ignoring her protests, Tony and Pepper forced Natasha to take a picture.

"We only live once," Tony reminded the red-head.  
"Hey... let's not force her," Steve tried to mediate, but the Christmas spirit was beginning to take root with fervour in Tony and Pepper and slowly it spread, like an infectious virus, until Clint, Jane and Thor also forgot how difficult the last few days had been. Even Natasha found herself smiling a little.

Before he knew it, Steve found himself on Santa's knee, assuring the white-bearded Santa, who wore a classy outfit, pince-nez and glossy black leather boots, that he had been on his best behaviour all year.

"For some reason, I can believe that," Tony said in awe. "My cynical heart is touched."  
"No, it isn't," Bruce chuckled. "More like horrified."  
"OK. Yeah. I lied. Speaking of lies... how's Loki holding up?"  
"Uhhh..."

The two of them turned to catch a glimpse of Loki who had backed into the corner furthest away from the whole proceedings. His green eyes glittered with two parts rage and one part interest. _If I didn't know any better, it is almost as if Loki has been trapped in a cage with a wild animal_, Tony smirked to himself. _Our local black cloud is going to rain on our parade at some point. _

"Planning our deaths no doubt," Bruce was saying.

He was not far off. Loki, watching his brother take a seat (which no doubt nearly broke the poor being's leg), fumed. _If I had my magic, this place would be in flames – and oh, how bright and glorious a celebration it would be then! Only my laughter would resound in the blackened halls. And their wailings – until I silenced them one by one. I would walk across the skeletons of the puling brats who swarm this place like ants. Ants. They are all meant to be crushed. Their dreams crushed. I would shake the earth and bring down their halls as my fa – as Odin Allfather did before me in Jotunheim. I would tear them apart with my bare hands. I would stake them with these red and white swirled... _Loki tipped his head as his finger pushed the large, curved pole experimentally beside him. _What are these supposed to represent?_ His lip curled. _Moronic. Idiotic. Insane. Entirely Thor. And he has brought me here to look at what, precisely? An aged being who appears to be worshipped by this mindless race..._

"So, what do you think?" Tony slid over, oozing charm and sarcasm all in one go.

Loki eyed the man with disfavour before turning up his nose.

"I sense no magic. This is one giant lie, isn't it? Well, no fear. I won't tell Thor. Watching him play the fool is a favourite pasttime of mine, after all."  
"Uh... He's real," Tony raised an eyebrow. "Or do you need more proof?"  
"I sense no magic on him," Loki said reluctantly.  
"And you can sense magic with those spells binding you?" asked Tony.  
"In a manner of speaking. I can sense my magic. Out of my reach. But always there."  
"Wow. That sucks."  
"At any rate," Loki continued dismissively. "I cannot sense any from this manifestation of Santa Claus. Surely I would be able to –"  
"Or maybe not," Tony said cheerfully. "He is after all an alien."  
"Sorry?"  
"He came from outer space."Tony explained. "A long time ago. Look. If you promise not to say anything, I'll show you the SHIELD records on –"  
"You're showing him the SHIELD records on what?" Bruce frowned. "Tony, you shouldn't be –"  
"C'mon, Bruce. What's Loki going to do? Kill Santa? He can hardly make it to Brooklyn without getting beat on. He'd probably die before he got past Canada."  
"SHIELD has been watching this... creature as well?" Loki eyed Tony and Bruce, still suspicious. "For true?"  
"Well, yeah. But, you know, Bruce is right. I shouldn't really be offering to show you those files. I guess I got carried away there... Besides. Now that I think about it, maybe he might not want to see you."  
"He saw Thor," Loki stiffened, frowning. "Oh. I see. Thor may gain an audience, but he won't acknowledge any offspring of Laufey – is that it?"  
"There might be bad blood between him and your people – I don't know..." Tony shrugged. "Who knows? He's had a long history. Maybe he's scared of you."  
"Sorry. What? Whose people?" Bruce blinked.  
"Tell you later," Tony flapped a hand.  
"You will do nothing of the sort, Son of Stark," hissed Loki, green eyes poisonous with hate. "That stays between us!"  
"OK. Uh... sorry Bruce. Um. Client confidentiality or whatever."  
"I'm confused," Bruce shook his head.  
"And you think that this being is above me that he can dismiss Loki the God of Mischief?"  
"Um... Maybe?" Tony hazarded hoping that his attempt at reverse psychology was going to actually work and not end up with him flattened against the wall and Loki getting more Youtube time having seizures.  
"That's cold, Tony." Bruce was saying. Tony ignored him.  
"He's right though." Clint.

_Great_, Bruce thought. _Now Clint's here._

Loki's eyes darted from Tony's relaxed disinterested look to Clint's smirk to Bruce's concerned frown. Then, he glanced over to see Pepper rise from Santa's knee with a smile and a wink. The Santa Claus. The being who wore red and white. The colours he hated the most. _And gold. You hate gold too. Red, gold and white. You belong in this room as much as a bilgesnipe belongs on the dance floor._

"Now, I think there's one other visitor, isn't there?" chuckled the Santa cheerfully, turning in Loki's direction. "Loki, am I right?"

Loki nearly flattened himself back up against the wall, but after a moment as everyone turned to look at him, he raised his chin and stepped forward, back ramrod straight, refusing to look anyone in the eye. Thor stepped forward.

"Come, brother, Loki, let's take a picture. You and I."  
"I have no desire to take a picture," Loki declined waspishly, pushing his brother back. "Stop hovering. I am no child."  
"Just sit on his lap and ask for something," Jane smiled encouragingly.  
"I require nothing," Loki muttered.  
"Come now. I am sure you can think of one thing," Thor said encouragingly, pulling his brother closer. "Besides, you need to observe this manifestation up close to get the full effect of his presence. I assure you, he is a very kind being."  
"This is a thing for children," Loki repeated. "They said so. I am not a child. I am not a fool. I am not falling for this trick."  
"Well, if it's a trick," Natasha said coolly. "Then I fell for it too. I sat on his knee and took a picture. We all did. If we play the fool, we're doing it all together."  
"What kind of logic is that? I am not – what – Thor! Stop it! I can go on my own!"

Loki twisted away from his brother's hand and, painful inch by painful inch, drew closer to the Santa until he stood, drawing himself up to his full height and glaring down at the cheery manifestation. Santa was just like Odin. _In a manner of speaking. Superficially._ Loki watched him. _Maybe none at all._ But, there was something about his kind eye, which twinkled up at him, and his calm demeanour which spoke of peace and good intention.

Loki sat down. The world did not shake. No one died. No one laughed either.

Loki sat and stared at Santa, silently. Unnervingly focussed.

He sat. _Ramrod straight as he used to as a child when he reported on his progress to our father_, Thor noted. _He is as nervous as a young colt._ Thor grinned. _A good look for my cocksure brother..._ He hesitated. _And also a little sad. _

"Have you had a good year this year, Loki?" asked Santa, his warm voice rolling over the frosty ex-God. "Been up to any mischief lately?" He added with a chuckle.

Loki stared back, eyes flashing temporarily with hate as he imagined choking the disrespectful, nosy being to death. _Then I would be tormented with nothing but pain, not even allowed to die_, he sighed, deflating yet again as his powerlessness pressed back down on him. _Almost as bad as being found by – being found by – I cannot think on it. Not here. Not now..._ He forced himself to focus on the man's eyes. Santa didn't seem too unnerved by Loki's presence.

"Santa's got balls," he could hear Clint say.  
"Yeah," Tony nodded, glancing at Pepper. _How much did she pay the man?_ Filing that question away for later, Tony focussed back on Loki, squinting through the video camera he held up. This was going down for posterity.

"Not particularly," Loki finally said, vaguely. "On all counts."  
"I see," Santa smiled comfortingly and then pressed a small representation of the red, green and white staff into Loki's hand. "Do you know what this is?"

Loki stared at it. It was smooth and shiny and slick. The ends were crinkled. The colours bright.

"I am not familiar with it, no."  
"It's a candy cane. Very sweet and enjoyed by everyone during Christmas time. I eat loads of them," Santa winked at Loki. "You can hang it on your Christmas tree and eat it on Christmas Day."

Loki couldn't tear his eyes away from the candy, but he finally looked up, green eyes suspiciously bright.

"I do not have a Christmas tree," Loki finally admitted.  
"Well, not yet," Tony said. "But we will, that I can say for sure."  
"A hundred percent sure?" asked Pepper archly.  
"You're killing me, woman."

"There you go," Santa smiled. "A Christmas tree and some candy. Remember to put out some milk and cookies for me on Christmas Eve. I always get peckish when I drop off the gifts."  
Loki frowned. "You only need milk and pastries to survive? You do not seem like an alien from the Nine Realms. Perhaps you come from further abroad – where even the magic is strange to me."  
"The universe is full of wonders, Loki," Santa greed smoothly. "You just have to be open to them. Are you going to write me a letter?"  
"I am not planning to," Loki replied stiffly. "I am in need of nothing. I am god, I will have you know, ignorant being from beyond."  
"Well, if you change your mind, I can fill your order, right up until Christmas Eve." Santa tipped his head to give Loki a look over his spectacles. "If it is a wish from the heart that is faithful to your desires, it will come true."  
"I am supposed to believe this absurdity?" Loki stated in astonishment, he began to rise. "You are indeed much like my – like Thor. Unhand me!"

He tried to get up, but Thor's hand descended and Loki found himself forced back down. The elves and Mrs. Claus drew close – the bright greens, reds, whites and golds almost sucked out of life by the tense, angry, nervous, dark presence of Loki in the middle. Clint and Tony were taking pictures. Thor joined Loki. Then all the Avengers wanted to get in.

"I am not one of you, morons," Loki tried to pull away – and failed.  
"Is that 'I am not one of you morons' or 'I am not one of you, morons'?" Tony asked. "Wait. I think they mean the same thing irregardless."  
"Both," was the short reply. "Unhand me, Thor! This instant!"

Loki was off Santa's knee now and attempting to retreat. Pepper was already moving forward to position everyone for the last picture. She moved Clint to stand by Natasha and pulling Thor away to put him by Jane. It was imperative to get this over as soon as possible. Loki's limit had been no doubt stretched to the max.

"Hey, hey, calm down, Reindeer Games," Tony came up and shook his head. "It's just a picture."  
"I have no desire to be mistaken as being part of your ridiculous company of heroes," Loki said bitterly.  
"I don't think anyone will think you are," Clint smirked. "Just get in here and take the damn picture."  
"Think of it this way – it will make you look good." Pepper said, turning to Loki. "We're going to give it to the newspaper and it'll probably end up as promotion for the Avengers."  
"The Avengers and pet, you mean," snapped Loki. "I refuse."  
"No, no, no," Pepper smiled. "You stand over here. At the edge. You'll be in the picture – but not quite –"  
"Think of it as yet another way to piss off Fury and SHIELD and New York," suggested Tony.  
"Think how Mother will be so happy to have so many reminders of you," Thor added, ladling on familial guilt with almost no remorse. "Jane is going to aid me in acquiring some for Mother. She will want to see you doing well, that I promise you, Loki."

At the mention of his mother, Loki glared at Thor but slowly edged about so that he stood by Thor, but not turned in toward the group. Santa sat in the middle, surrounded by their happy faces and Loki's not so happy face. When they parted, they thanked Santa. Loki, following Thor, gave Santa a stiff bow before regally sweeping out. He had paid homage to the manifestation of the super being which ruled the Festival and the season. Now, it was time to go home.

Or not.

With Jane, Thor was now busy sending off a slender letter to the self-same being. Both of them were laughing and giggling as the white envelopes, decorated gaily with red and green stripes on white, were slipped into the narrow slot of the red box marked "North Pole Express". Loki sneered.

_He was serious about writing him then. Typical Thor._ Loki sighed. _Let us just go home – far away from this dangerous place._

-0-0-0-

That night, he stood in his room, ignoring the sound of laughter and festivity down the hall. Just like in Asgard, he stood alone as the others enjoyed a night of revelry. Just like in Asgard, he was standing on the outside looking in. But now, he did not rail against this fate. It was meant to be. For all time.

It began to snow again, and he watched the snowflakes drift past the window and thought back to the kind eyes which had not judged him.

_The universe is full of wonders, Loki. You just have to be open to them. _

Loki turned away, cursing to himself softly at the stirring of weakness within his chest where his heart used to be.

_Are you going to write me a letter?_

_What kind of wish can a god make, brother? _

"JARVIS," he finally whispered.  
"Yes, Mr. Loki?"  
"If I would write a letter to this being who lives in the North of Midgard, in secret, mind you – could you assist me in sending it there that it may arrive on time?"  
"Of course, Mr. Loki."  
"Is there parchment and ink in this place?"  
"I could have a letter printed out for you and sent within the next day," offered the AI.  
"Many..." Loki swallowed. "My thanks... JARVIS."  
"You are welcome. Also, Mr. Loki, I have your four items already listed in the memory banks. Would you like to amend or add anything else?"

_A person born from nothingness journeying to nowhere can no sooner hold faith than a sieve can hold water._

"No." Loki paused, eyes still trained on the darkness and snow swirling outside his windows. "No... Thank you."

* * *

**Well. There you go. So. For those interested... what is my inspiration to write? Well, obviously, I have a related Christmas carol for each chapter. I listen to those as much as I can before I go crazy. Hahaha. **

**And for those interested, the Bruce Chapter - "Mortal Flesh" is an awesome song, which is very gentle. And it also refers to "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak" (Matthew 26:41). Bruce and Loki are both willing to change, but their natural impulses betray them. Perhaps, I should say that their particular frames of mind allow them to be more aware that they are prone to failure. It's kinda sad. But awesome.**

**At any rate, I love to listen to music. I'll blab about one album that is awesome for angst writing. 'The Albatross' by Port Blue. The track "Of Japan" is GORGEOUS. Short, but gorgeous. Who is Port Blue? Port Blue is another name for Adam Young (Owl City) - except it is entirely made of instrumental ambience. So lovely!**

**Also, on my tumblr - dappled-things dot tumblr dot com, you can find Loki's letter. I made a jpeg for it. LOL.**


	23. Sentiments Rise Around the Tree

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

To Guest Reviewers:

Reader: Thanks a lot for the review and comments! It does cause a bundle of emotion - doesn't it? Which is awesome to know because I was kinda going for a riot of things. Loki is so awesomely pathetic.

**So... Another chapter. Another day. Something like 17 more chapters more to go... Exciting! I hope! **

**Let me know if you're excited!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 23  
Sentiments Rise Around the Tree

"Rocking around the Christmas tree  
at the Christmas party hop  
Mistletoe hung where you can see  
every couple tries to stop  
Rocking around the Christmas tree,  
let the Christmas spirit ring  
Later we'll have some pumpkin pie  
and we'll do some caroling.  
You will get a sentimental  
feeling when you hear  
Voices singing let's be jolly,  
deck the halls with boughs of holly..."

("Rockin' around the Christmas Tree" - sung by Toby Keith)

"Dartill's Tree Farm?"

The large, wrinkled, grey map rustled as Bruce and Steve jostled each other trying to look at it together. Loki, trying to edge away from them – but finding no room in the backseat of the car, sighed and fought down the urge to grab the offending article out of their hands and tear it into tiny shreds. He focussed instead on his hands, trying to keep them still, trying to keep his mouth shut. To be caught talking to himself would be the worst.

_It would, Loki_, he grinned to himself darkly. _They will look at you with those eyes – and you will be reminded again how low you have sunk. _

"Guys, with GPS, we can hardly be lost," Tony was trying to dissuade the two men as Pepper tried to call the farm. Behind him, Clint was flicking his lights rapidly on and off – a signal to pull off onto the shoulder of the road. "JARVIS will get us there in one piece, just relax. Just 'cause it hasn't shown up yet doesn't mean that it isn't there!"  
"It says we passed it – look at it –" Steve was pointing at the small screen. "Even I can read things like these, Stark."  
"We must've missed a turn off," sighed Tony.  
"That's what happens when you speed down roads," Pepper scolded the man. "You drive so recklessly, Tony! What would happen if we hit someone? Or passed a police checkpoint?"  
"I smile at them as I whizz past?" Tony grinned back, unrepentantly. "With this baby's brakes and four wheel drive, we're safer than Fury in his helicarrier of death."  
"Allow me to disagree, Stark." Steve frowned. "Just because we're safe doesn't mean that your driving is safe for the pedestrians."  
"Tony," Bruce sighed. "This isn't Grand Theft Auto."  
"Sadly."  
"Grand Theft Auto?" asked Steve.  
"You don't want to know," Pepper shook her head.  
"You seriously don't want to know," Bruce agreed. "It involves a ton of violence, fast driving and shooting people and you can be evil and kill prostitutes and police men and..." He caught sight of Steve's horrified face – and turned to find Loki looking partially fascinated. "You know, never mind. It's just... bad, bad, bad... Tony."

Tony finished pulling over and waited for Clint to walk over. Slowly, his window rolled down, revealing a mildly pissed off Clint.

"Hey – you totally missed the turn off back there!"  
"Sue me," Tony shrugged. "We can turn around no problem."  
"Well, just telling you to pay better attention next time or your, uh, extremities will be torn off and processed by a wood chipper."  
"Extremities? Which ones? I don't mind loosing a leg – or two. Although... that sounds... a little extreme, even for you. Natasha riding you hard? Oops. Did I say that out loud?"  
"Yeah, well. You aren't stuck in the same car as Thor and Jane. She is."  
"So are you."  
"Well, I don't mind Christmas carols –"  
"She is so the female Scrooge. I'm surprised she and Loki haven't gotten into an anti-Christmas confab."  
"If there's a confab, don't leave me out," Bruce called from the back.  
"It's not the carols per se," continued Clint. "It's when Thor and Jane started singing them. I kinda tried to join in – but she gave me the evil eye."  
"That sounds fun," Pepper sighed, and turned to eye the three men sandwiched in the back of the car. "We should do that too..."

Steve's eyes brightened at the thought of singing some traditional carols. Bruce sighed. Loki looked like he was going to tear her throat out – or he just had indigestion. It was hard to tell these days.

"Or not..."  
"You've got Thor singing?" Tony looked impressed. "Sweetness. I hope it's getting filmed."  
"My hands are kinda full of the wheel at the moment," Clint shrugged. "We can do it again – when we're back at the tower and Natasha can hide in the gym. OK. I gotta go back. Let's get this show on the road."  
"It is on the road –'

But Tony was already talking to air; Clint had headed back to his vehicle.

"Well... that's just... rude..." He had the temerity to look offended.

-0-0-0-

Fifteen minutes later, the two vehicles were trundling down a long farm lane into a small woods and finally emerging into a large clearing with a homey looking house in the middle complete with glowing windows, tasteful garlands and twinkling lights. Large barns stood towards the back, complete with milking cows and large empty fields for grazing. To the west, a wood loomed and the group of superheroes could see where the farmer and his work hands were guiding a small trickle of visitors towards various stalls, where other workers directed the groups to various trees, discussing the merit of each tree.

Within a few moments, Pepper was guiding everyone into a clearing where the Avengers began to consider what kind of tree they wanted.

"A huge ass one," Tony was saying loudly, strutting from tree to tree. "One that'll reach the ceiling or something like that. Wide too. Nothing spindly. Firm branches. We can always get it appropriately trimmed, right, Pepper? Hey. Thor. Stand by this one. Yeah. Close. Just a bit taller. Want one where we need to get Loki or Thor on ladder to put on the star. Or angel. Do we have a star or an angel this year? Or can we have both somehow? An angel on a star? A star above an angel? Oh. Here. What about this. Hm. Close but no dice. Taller. Bigger! You know what I'm saying - something that I can't see the top of –"  
"Surely, that cannot be difficult to achieve," Loki muttered to himself, brushing past the short genius.  
"Hey, I heard that Reindeer Games. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"  
"I think I found one," Steve burst into the clearing, his mittens rubbing together, blue eyes glinting with excitement. "Loki. Come. We need to measure it to your height. Or Thor. Uhh... Where's Thor?"

Thor had inexplicably disappeared.

"No doubt he's 'snogging in the shrubbery', or removing Jane's drapes or whatever Shakespearan people do." Tony flapped a hand. "Take Mr. Giggles here. He's killing my groove."  
"It is always my pleasure to destroy whatever speck of happiness you may attain." Loki grinned toothily.  
"Yeah, I can see that," Tony eyed the dark-clad ex-God speculatively. "You do get some kind of joy from being a kill joy – does anyone else see the paradox here?"

Loki sneered, "What else do you expect from the God of Chaos?"

"Uh. Ex-God of Chaos. Hey, don't blame me. Just go! Go go go. Go with Steve. He's probably going to combust if he has to wait any later. Let me know if you'd have to get on a ladder to reach the top."

Loki glared, arms trembling as he forced himself to breathe and stand there instead of hacking at the man before him with a well-placed blow to the chest with the axe. Ungraciously, the ex-God of Mischief followed Steve.

"Just ignore Stark," Steve said, comfortingly, but yet finding himself unable to pat the quivering mess of tension at his side. "He's always running off at the mouth." He nudged forward a metal ladder he had snagged from the group they had just left. From far away, they could hear Clint and Tony cursing loudly at the discovery. "It looks tall to me. I'd need the ladder to get to the top. How about you?"

Calling on the Norns for patience, Loki took the metal struts in both hands and began to climb the rickety thing. The rungs were small and still slippery even for his travelling boots which could find grip on the hardest of rocks. _It is the cursed metal_, Loki sighed as the contraption began to wobble again, dangerously. Steve was now beside him, steadying the legs as best he could. Loki got up to the third last rung and reached out his hand to the top of the tree.

"Seems tall enough to me," Loki said. "Even for Son of Stark's insane desires. I am quite sure he cannot see the top of this one. Although his ego might give him a few additional measures in height."  
"It already does," Steve chuckled. "You know – the suit."  
"Ah. Yes. I thought as much."  
"We found it!" Steve turned his head a little and yelled back. "It's HUGE!"  
"Coming! Coming!" Tony's voice was getting closer.

Loki's boot awkwardly hung down, attempting to find the next rung. Steve opened his mouth to say something to the effect of 'Be careful' – and he wondered if Loki had often used a ladder. _Did princes use ladders in Asgard?_ He had a feeling that Loki wasn't the type to hang about on ladders. Loki's right foot was now inching down – got caught – jerked – the left foot slipped – and just as he said, "Look out!" (_Really, who was he yelling at? At himself? Good one, Steve!_), Loki keeled over.

Steve let go of the ladder, which pushed it forward in opposite reaction to Loki's momentum. The ex-God of Mischief twisted in an attempt to fall the rest of the way onto his own two feet, which might have worked on any other day. Except Steve was in the way. And Steve was slipping on a patch of ice, further burdened by a handful of Loki and heavy leather and metal buckles.

OOMPH!

For a moment, all the air left his lungs. _Did I just make that sound? Ughhhh..._ Before he could say anything, Loki stirred a little, obviously just as out of it as he was.

"CLINT! YOU GOTTA SEE THIS! STEVE AND LOKI ARE MAKING OUT! UNDER OUR CHRISTMAS TREE! MOVE OVER SANTA AND MOMMY!" _Tony. Tony Stark. With a camera phone.  
_"Holy crap. That's a huge ass tree. Good one, Steve." _Clint._ Suddenly looking down at him with a huge grin spread over his face. "Oh wow. Yeah. I didn't think you two batted for the other team. Listen, Loki. I hate to break the news but Steve is kinda... new at this, so go easy on him, OK?"

Steve sagged back as Loki struggled to his knees, green eyes wild with irritation.

"Silence, you fools," he snarled and stalked past them, obviously fuming. He obviously wanted to say more, but the situation seemed to bring him to new heights of speechless rage.  
"Guys," he could hear Steve sighing, yet again. _Steve was always sighing about him. It __annoyed him no end._ "That wasn't nice. Or funny. It was an accident."  
"That's what she said," Tony chuckled. "I so got pictures of that."  
"Bluetooth me them," Clint grinned. "It's going to go in my scrapbook."  
"Does SHIELD have a newsletter?" Tony asked, helping Steve up. "It should. This could be the perfect splash for the front page. Look. I'm gonna... wait a sec... sweetness... A little Christmas cheer goes a long way, Steve. You just cheered up a whole helicarrier."  
"Stark, what did you do?" Steve was now looming over the shorter man.  
"Just... sharing the love. Hacking is my go to response for, like, anything." Tony gave Steve an innocent, 'it's only little me' look. "I'm happy, I hack. I'm sad, I hack. I'm angry, I hack. And now, Fury and Madame Marie and a whole bored out of their skulls staff are going to get an eyeful of Steve and Loki. What should the tag be?"  
"'Christmas Time Special Moments – Consorting with the enemy'?" Clint suggested.  
"Sounds awesomely suspicious," agreed Tony. "And it's Steve too. Can't get much worse – or better than this! Think Fury will get a heart attack and die on us? OK. Done and done! We gotta get Pepper to see this."  
"The tree or the picture?"  
"Both. Hey, Pepper." He was on the phone again. "Follow the small footpath to the north. There's a few things you gotta see. Yeah. You wouldn't believe. You find Thor? OK. Yeah. A hay ride? Even better." Tony winked at Steve who rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Sounds like the perfect plan for a whole bunch of lovebirds." He hung up. "She's on her way with the farmhand. And Thor. Thor's gotten it into his head to axe the tree. Think they'll find us OK? We're a bit off the beaten track."

Clint and Tony disappeared down the path to guide the rest of the group back in.

"Guys... GUYS!" Steve called after them helplessly.

_Yes, Christmas just got more insane. And awkward. Was that possible?_

-0-0-0-

Steve was still asking himself the same question as he sat morosely between Loki and Bruce, while behind him the three couples snuggled on the hayride. Loki, it was obvious, would rather be anywhere but there. He couldn't blame the ex-God.

_What is worse?_ He wondered. _Sitting beside the man you fell on top of? Or sitting beside the man who might decorate the landscape with the imprint of your body? _

Bruce calmly sipped the cup of hot chocolate he had bought at the gift shop. Contemplating his own, Steve wondered how Loki felt. _To be far away from his family at this time. No matter how much you may hate them, during this time of the year, you always carry some kind of regret. Well, not that he celebrates Christmas, but Thor did mention some kind of Winter Season solstice... thing... _

"During Christmas, when I was young," he said. "Very young. My mother and sisters would make us sugar cookies. A very simple kind of cookie that can be cut in any kind of shape. She wasn't very well. Never well most of the time. My mother. Her health was always very weak – and things didn't get easier after my father died. But it didn't matter. As long as we had each other, during the holidays, we'd share these moments together. Like making cookies. Or singing. Or other things. Like chopping down Christmas trees. So, you see, when it's Christmas time, these kinds of memories surface... easier..."

A pause. Thor and Jane had started singing again, somewhere behind them. A slightly off kilter version of Jingle Bells. Thor hadn't gotten the melody down quite as well as Steve would've liked. Tony and Pepper joined in with zest. Clint might have, but Steve had a feeling that Natasha would kill him if he tried. Bruce scrunched down further and continued to sip his drink. There was the singing and the rhythmic clopping of hooves. The sound of a wind picking up in the tree branches and the scrunch-scrunch of snow. The creaking of the cart and the rustle of hay.

"In Asgard, they celebrate a winter solstice, right? Thor said something about it. Do you have fond memories of the, um, solstice, Loki?"  
"Not particularly," Loki glared at the drink in his hand, finally giving into thirst and raising it. It slid down his throat, hot and surprisingly creamy. Sweet. He drew his hand back to gaze at the cup in curiosity. "This drink is... surprisingly... pleasing."  
"Hot chocolate," Bruce balanced his drink between his knees precariously to wipe off his fogged up glasses yet again. "My favourite too."  
"We can make it back home," Steve said, letting his question go, deciding not to push Loki any further than Loki was comfortable with. "More of it, if you want to. It's very easy to make."  
"It is not my home, Son of Rogers," was the sharp reply.  
"Yeah, it is. For now."

The rest of the hayride was spent in silence. It was a long ride.

-0-0-0-

That night, the group forced Loki to join them in yet another absurd, ludicrous, inane, foolish rite of winter – decorating said chopped tree now lovingly erected in the large open area which Pepper referred to as the living room. It wasn't tall enough to brush the ceiling as Tony hoped, but tall enough that Loki and Thor found themselves press-ganged into ladder duty.

"I cannot understand why I must be the one on this precarious piece of furniture," Loki said for the third time. "Any other person here may just as easily do this menial chore as I with the help of this... ladder. Well, perhaps not Son of Stark or Barton," he sneered. "Even with a ladder, considering their diminutive stature, I think they would find it impossible to reach the top. Still, Roger's Son could do it."  
"What's the problem?" Clint asked, looking up as Loki awkwardly passed the string of lights to Thor under the strict eye of Pepper and Jane. "You scared of heights?" He jostled the ladder a little, enjoying Loki's sudden, white-knuckled grip on the upper rung.  
"I am not afraid of a fall," Loki gritted out. "I am made of much sterner stuff than you, little man. Rather, I would not want to crush the life out of anyone else. The Soldier is a hearty person, but I rather think Lady Pepper or Jane would be quite crushed if I fell into their arms."  
"Tony and Thor would be crushed too. Their hearts, anyways." Bruce had to interject with a chuckle. "Here's the angel. Just put it up on top of the tree."  
"No, no, no," Jane rushed forward. "That goes on last. It's tradition! Thor will put it on –"

Loki snatched the offending, tiny, fragile, white object from Bruce's hand and sneered at it, as he considered the amount of lace and gauze that went into the making of the 'angel'. Without a word, he installed it on the top of the tree, giving Thor a smug look of 'haha!', revelling in Thor's disappointment.

"He would make it a competition," Steve shook his head, still holding Thor's ladder. "Let it go, big guy. Let it go."  
"It is no matter, Son of Rogers," Thor smiled, pushing past his sadness gamely. "I am sure there are other things to place on the tree."

Scowling at his brother's graceful response, Loki jabbed at the angel. _It is not so entertaining to beat a Thor like this, is it, Loki?_

"We ran out of the lights. Again." Loki found himself snapping at Lady Pepper. "If I had my magic, I would be able to elongate it without needing to attach new lengths on the end. You would think you Midgardians would use your science more efficiently -"  
"Hm. I'm sure it'd be lovely," Pepper agreed calmly. "Here's another one. Keep going."  
"At least they chose some nice ice blue lights," Bruce pointed out, keeping an eye out as Loki carefully stepped down a few more rungs and leaned round to hand Thor the line as they twined the lights around the tree. "We got class this year."  
"As opposed to what?" asked Clint, appearing with some popcorn strings (which had been made by an enslaved Tony and Natasha in the kitchen).  
"As opposed to last year when we allowed a certain government agent choose the lighting," Pepper wrinkled her nose at the memory. "Never again."

Loki allowed himself a smile at the archer's expense. Stepped down a few more rungs. Strung around the lights a few more times – and then found solid ground. After adding the popcorn chains, the silvery garlands and various balls and other shapes which Steve had told him were called 'ornaments' (which actually made sense), there was a short argument on how to add the tinsel. Loki and Thor found themselves back up their ladders adding the little strands of silver to the top while Bruce and Clint straggled with Jane around the bottom. If a large portion of tinsel accidentally fell out of Loki's hands and onto their heads, it was really not his fault. This was his first time applying the stuff to a tree.

_Really, these Midgardians have strange customs. And I thought Asgard was bad..._

Steve reappeared from the kitchen calling hot chocolate. Loki scooted down the ladder, slipped out of the living room and down to the kitchen before anyone could say 'knife'. Bruce shook his head. Clint, followed by Thor and Jane, wondered if he could just buy Loki a packet of hot chocolate for Christmas. _Cheap. Easy. Hm. I'll ask 'Tasha about it._

Gathering around the table, everyone waited for Steve to dispense the homemade chocolate he had rustled up with the help of JARVIS, a chocolate mix can and some milk. Loki was incredibly pleased to find himself served first. Blowing carefully on the dark liquid, he inhaled the soothing scent of sweetness and milk.

It reminded him... reminded him of the sweet, scented mead his mother would order from the kitchen when he came to visit her during the festivities. She was a busy woman, being the Queen of Asgard and the wife of Odin, kept on her feet day in and day out as hostess for any visitors during that time. _But at night, even when she was tired, she would ask for me to visit_, Loki remembered. _We would sit by the fire... and she would tell me funny stories about ambassadors and their gaffes. How the servents spilt the soup on some princess's dress. Or Father trying to stifle burps in the middle of a feast. I laughed then... we laughed together._

Steve's words rose to mind. _...it didn't matter. As long as we had each other, during the holidays, we'd share these moments together..._ His hand tightened on the handle of his mug and he took a sip, enjoying the familiar creaminess as it slid down his tense throat, spreading out a warmth he had long forgotten in his chest. There was a toast going on and he raised his mug in a small salutation, the voices of the fools – _the kind fools_ – far away, as his thoughts drifted back to Asgard.

_Mother._

* * *

**Bizarre way to end the chapter, I know. But that's how it wanted to end... (pokes at it) Yep. Not going anywhere. Hmm... **

**So. Another coverage on OSTs for angst writing. "Kingdom of Heaven" OST by Harry Gregson-Williams. A great track is called "The King" and "A New World". (teary eyes) So beautiful! And quiet!**

**In other news, mildly depressed. Is it because I watched Sunshine and it is a sad movie? Is it because Loki fanfics have been a bit too dark for me lately? Is it because if things had worked out I'd be home right now enjoying my large family's company? (sigh) I'm trying to cheer myself up with SG:1 (watching it for the first time) and karaoke at KTV. Suddenly need to write very dark Loki fics... We'll see..._  
_**


	24. Only At Christmas Time

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

How's everyone? I hope you guys like this new installment! Please let me know what you think!

**THANKS TO ALL REVIEWERS WHO ARE STICKING WITH ME! Love you all!**

**Also began a Loki-only Tumblr. Well. Anything to do with Hiddleston, Loki and the Avengers/Thor. But mainly focussing on Loki. Loki pictures get little drabblets from me underneath. So it's like reading itty-bitty ficlets. Yeah. And posting up youtube vids of Tom Hiddleston and etc. on the fandom. **

**Tumblr name - mischiefmakerloki. :) Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 24  
Only At Christmas Time

Only at Christmas time  
Only a tree to climb  
Only at Christmas time  
If you can read the sign  
Only at Christmas time  
Everything lost will find  
Only at Christmas time  
Only at Christmas time  
("Only At Christmas Time" - sung by Sufjan Stevens)

After the Santa Claus episode and the tree cutting and the decorating, the group once again found themselves drifting apart just a little. For three days, Stark Towers fell quiet as Tony was pulled away to deal with his company and get the board of directors back where he wanted them to be (on their toes and fearful of what he, Anthony Stark, was going to do next). Natasha took another short mission somewhere in Eastern Europe. Clint went along for support.

It was either that or watch sports reruns, hockey games and Christmas movies with Loki drifting about aimlessly behind him. Unnerving. Sure, time on the field wasn't what he had in mind for Christmas holidays, but it was a hell of a lot better than accidentally finding himself in the company with the man who had forcefully (and that was a polite way of saying it) recruited him for incredibly nefarious purposes. The things he had done... It didn't bear thinking on.

So he had left with Natasha.

Bruce disappeared into his lab and every few days left for his clinic duties. Steve sometimes joined him for the company, even though labs and technology and computers still weren't his favourite things in the world. The resurrected soldier was learning. Slowly. But learning. Every few days, he called Fury with his report on Loki. It was always the same. Loki was behaving himself, for the most part, even if he wasn't the nicest conversationalist in the Big Apple.

The ex-god elected to hide in his room, reading any book he could lay his hand on. Or writing in an incomprehensible language in a black leather journal Jane had found for him. JARVIS had gotten a sample of the script, but so far there was no way to decode the thing. Not only was it in another language, it appeared to be in code.

_Typical Loki suspiciousness. _

Thor and Jane tried to get him out – but it was almost impossible. Only yesterday, the two lovebirds, Steve and Bruce had taken Loki shopping, returning to the mall they had visited previously. It had ended on a rather strange not, but Steve was getting used to that. All part of a Lokified Christmas.

-0-0-0-

Loki, once again, found himself in the place which he mentally called the Third Ring of Hel. A large ceiling-ed room, looking like a warehouse – and the shelves were loaded with an impossible amount of things. Everything so brightly coloured and noisy it overwhelmed the senses. The mortal children, idiotic brats that they were, appeared to behave no better than animals. Yelling, shouting, pushing, shoving, fighting (here, the God of Mischief could only just stand and stare in shock at the sight of two pink-clad mortal tots bash each other over the head with ugly dolls... _I wanted to rule these? Truly?... No. No, you didn't. Not really._)... Screaming and crying.

One particular brat was nearly bashed to death when he kicked Loki accidentally in the shins while flailing about in a particularly nasty temper tantrum. Apparently the parent hadn't agreed to buying some rubbish to which the small impudent child took umbrage. Ordinarily, Loki would have revelled in the parent's embarrassment and would have found some kind of amusement in the pain of the infant. Unfortunately, his nerves were on edge and before he could stop himself, he was looming over the boy, giving him such a look as to promise instant death by impalement. Loki's hands were already searching for something to brain the insect with, but the mother's biological instincts for her offspring's survival, pulled the boy away and left the aisle immediately.

In the end, Loki found himself edging away from the swirl of activity, parted from the others and finally found a nook in the corner of the store, which was relatively quiet. Something to do with Midgardian bedding or seamstresses or some such thing. It did not matter. Thor would find him, he was fairly certain. Thor would not leave without him. _Well... there was that one time on Muspelheim... Ah. Better not think on it._

Hunching down between a display about buttons and long bolts of purple, red and green cloth, Loki curled up, hoping that no one would bother him.

It was not to be.

"Mister, mister, are you OK?"

A servant. Or some such person, wearing the blue vest of the market. Loki eyed the young woman with disfavour. She would look better far away, not talking to him. _Or perhaps not._

"You know you can't loiter here, right?"

Loki stared at her. _Leave me alone, you idiotic quim. The last thing I need is to hit a woman and be tortured for my lack of chivalry._

"Are you new in town?"

No answer.

"Maybe..." She paused, wrinkling her head. "I'm going to have to call security, you know." But she made no move and tried again. "Are you waiting for someone?"

Just then the intercom switched on.

"Will Loki Odinsson please come to the front desk, please? Loki Odinsson, your brother, Thor, is waiting for you at the front desk." Pause. Then again, even more harassed sounding. "Will Loki Odinsson please come to the front desk, please? Loki Odinsson, your brother, Thor, is waiting for you at the front desk."

A pause. Loki stared up at the ceiling. _Another JARVIS? How many were there in this world?_

"Loki Odinsson is, uh, tall, with dark hair and green eyes, wearing a long black duster –" There was a yelp and a mild scuffling sound and Thor's voice suddenly boomed out: "Loki, brother, are you safe? Make your way to the front of the hall otherwise, Son of Stark will activate JARVIS to find you."

Throughout this entire announcement, Loki's shoulders sagged as he recognized what was happening. _I am being treated like a child. Again!_ He ground his teeth, already feeling his face flush with anger, embarrassment and annoyance. For a moment, he focused on steadying his breathing, head on his knees. When he finally calmed down, he looked up to find the girl still hovering over him, eyes now wide as she began to realize that she had just located the lost Loki Odinsson. Scurrying over to her workstation, the girl picked up the communication device attached to her booth and pressed some buttons.

"Hey, Shirley. Stacey from Sewing, Crafts and Art Department. Yeah. I think we have, um, a crazy guy here dressed up like Loki Odinsson here. He's not... looking too good. Maybe they should come and check it out?"  
"I can go myself," Loki snapped, struggling to his feet.  
"OK. Send Kendra along. I think that crazy lady is back for her purple cloth and you know how she always wants – yeah – yeah – uh-huh. I know!... OK... Yep... Sure. Bye!" The girl turned to Loki and smiled uneasily, tucking a blue strand of hair behind her ear, eyeing the tall, lanky frame before her. The long black hair and intense green eyes. "So, uh. They're on their way."  
"I can retrace my path easily enough –"  
"Better not. It's a jungle out there." The girl shrugged. "Just wait, OK."

Loki eyed the girl suspiciously. _What in Helheim is she playing at? And why is she not trying to impale me or scream at me or some such thing?_

"You seem to be fairly relaxed," Loki said looking around, his fingers running along some soft fabric and landing on a hooked metal object which he had a feeling was not supposed to be a weapon but something of a more benign nature.  
"Relaxed?" The girl eyed Loki as the ex-God shifted the crochet hook in the palm of his hand testingly.  
"At ease. With no worries – despite the fact that there is a well-known war criminal in your department store and in your part of it no less."  
"Oh. Wow. So you aren't cosplaying or roleplaying or whatever? Cool."

Loki blinked at the girl. _What was the ninny saying now?_ His gaze landed on something even better. A box of long straight metal sticks with points at each end.

"You knit in, uh, wherever you call home?" She asked.

_I have no home, silly girl._

"That is a woman's job, I suspect," he replied. "If we were to undertake such purile activities."  
"Wow. Misogyny in space. Right." Pause. "Mind if I take your photo?"  
"Sorry?" Loki swished around, suddenly agitated at the sight of a familiar mechanical device – _camera phone – smart-phone - whatever,_ his duster settling once again. _Where is Thor? How long does it take for him to get here?_  
"A picture. I'd like a picture."  
"Why?" The question slipped out before he could stop himself.  
"You're cool?"  
"Cool implies what exactly?"  
"Uhhhh..." The girl shifted, tonguing a metal stud she had in her tongue. It was fascinatingly horrific. _Midgardian and their bizarre sense of fashion – worse than Volstagg plating his beard..._ "Well, you know... out of this world, awesome, sensational, the cat's pajamas... You know, you're like the poster boy for the disenfranchised lately. They're popping up everywhere... Fan clubs and shit like that." Another pause. "You have no idea what I am talking about, do you?"  
"I am glad to say, no. Ah! Thor. There you are." Loki hurried over to his brother as his hated captors rounded the corner. "At last. I thought I would be waiting here until Ragnarok. And this brat would not let me rejoin you. I was perfectly capable – but she insisted –"

Thor was already standing before the girl and bowing over her hand with many thanks for caring for his brother.

"You did not hurt Lady Stacey in anyway, I trust?" He asked turning to Loki.  
"Lady Stacey? Ah. The girl."  
"She did after all see to your –"  
"I may be a pathetic Jotun, but that does not mean I must be entirely devoid of manners, Thor –"  
"No, he was fine," Stacey smiled up at the two. "Really sweet."  
"Uhhh... That's... good... right?" Bruce said, surreptitiously checking to see that the girl wasn't under some mind control or something like that.

Nope. No blue eyes. _Well. No accounting for taste._

"In fact, he was just going to take a photo with me, as thanks for helping me out," the blue-haired punk smoothly continued. "Mind taking it?"

Jane accepted the phone with a small smile as Loki's eyes widened with panic. With a grin, Thor pushed him up against a wall of fabric and lace. In seconds, the conniving wench had latched onto his arm and three photos were taken. Two by Jane, one by Bruce (for Clint's scrapbook, he said). Stacey made sure Loki left behind the hooks and knitting needles he had picked up and waved cheerfully as he fled, Thor hard on his heels. Later on, in the car, they laughed at how Loki had appeared to have gained a fan.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Jane had laughed. "It's like death metal or something like that. People are drawn to different things – Loki must have become one of them."  
"That I must see," Bruce smiled. "We'll get JARVIS to search the net. Although we'll probably regret it."

Loki glared out the window. He would not go shopping again. He would rather die.

-0-0-0-

The following late afternoon, when he finally extricated from the last of his board meetings, Tony wanted to go for a run in his suit. That or a drive. Pepper suggested they find a suburb that was decorated. Before they knew it, everyone was gathered around to join them in the expedition for light shows in Suburbia. After getting some information from JARVIS, they set out in two cars again. Same as before. This time Tony, Pepper, Thor and Jane in one car. Steve, Bruce and Loki in the other car with Natasha and Clint.

Feeling rather unwelcome and extra tense in Barton's car, Loki said nothing, content to be the black hole of Christmas cheer.

After an hour of driving (which began to feel too long for his comfort), the two cars turned into a small cul-de-sac which, now in the falling evening, was lit up with the usual decorations. Except that this was magnified a hundred times. Clint, turning on the radio, discovered someone had set up a short wave radio signal to offer free Christmas melodies for the passersby. Loki was amused at how annoyed the Black Widow got as the music was cranked up at the Super Soldier's request.

Then, when they had turned at the dead end, they discovered that Tony had parked his car and everyone was getting out, the further to enjoy what had been set up. Clint followed suit, so Loki perforce had to climb out and look around.

It wasn't as bad as he feared. This place was quiet for one. Each house lay snuggled in the snow which had been gathering heavily. Already, as it had been wont of late, snowflakes were drifting down silently. Covering even more of the hardy green shrubs and winter trees now bravely carrying burdens of ice and snow. Some trees had been cleared off and decorated in the glinting garlands and lights. Naked trees, now bereft of their leaves, also bore lights and garlands.

Lights twisted around the edges of the houses and up the sides of pathways and around the doors and windows. There was light everywhere, not strong enough to banish the night, but enough to imbue everything in a soft glow. Many of the trees' lights were multicoloured and flashing. Those he steered away from. Those and the shaped lights which twisted around wires in outlines of candy canes, Santas, the magical deer and other bizarre shapes of stars and babies.

_Babies. This was festival celebrating children as well?_ Loki blinked. _That would explain how many of those brats were at the market – mall – the other day. _

Wandering apart from the group, avoiding the flash of cameras and the chatter, Loki discovered yet another decorated tree this time with deep blue lights which steadily glowed in a satisfactorily peaceful way. For some reason, it brought a sense of serenity – the cool wind, the cold snow pressing on his feet through his boots, the snowflakes on his skin. Underneath his fingers, the tree's prickled needles scratched his skin. Evergreen. Always growing. Staying the same, never falling. Never failing. As the cycles passed by, it would remain and grow taller and taller. _Will it be here next year for the next Midgardian solstice festival? Will it be decorated again? Will it stand in the snow? Perhaps, I will see it again next year. Perhaps..._ Trying not to consider a brighter future, Loki looked upward at the dark sky, enjoying the flakes falling on his eyelids. He lingered there, a little too long.

"Hey. Loki. Wait! Stop! No moving!"

It was Clint, Tony, Thor and Bruce. And the others, turning to stare at the unusually quiet ex-God of Mischief. Staring at him as though a criminal – _a Jotun – a beast – a nothing_ such as he would not enjoy the serenity of such a place. Loki's lips twisted and he jerked back but was stopped by the look on Thor's face. It was unusually blank. Which meant the fool was musing over something. _Thor always got a constipated look on his face when he thought too hard_, Loki grinned to himself. _Like a cow._

"Brings to mind that Elvis Presley hit," Clint was saying and began to croon in Natasha's direction. "I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas..."  
"Clint, stop it," she rolled her eyes.  
"Loki does look blue," Bruce grinned. "Is there a tree around here with green lights?"  
"Green lights on a green tree," Tony paused. "Redundant but inspiring. Blue Loki is interesting though. Where were you at Halloween, Loki? I would've paid for an Avatar costume for you complete with body paint. Oh wait... you were sulking on the streets. My bad. Well, you missed out on a lot. Thor as Indiana Jones was inspiring. You don't, you don't know who Indiana Jones is, do you? Yeah. Thought not."

Loki glanced down at his hands, raising them speculatively. His pale skin did indeed seem to look blue in the light. It reminded him briefly of – _ah... That's it..._ Loki recoiled then and stepped back further, eyes glinting angrily at Tony and Thor. His green eyes darted around the group, noticing the confusion on the other's face and he relaxed just a little. _The idiots haven't said anything yet... but it's... never good when Thor starts thinking things._

"So. You have no choice next year," Tony was continuing on. "You. Avengers. Halloween party. Avatar style. I always thought Pepper would look cute with a tail. Ow!"

Pepper smacked Tony on the arm none too gently. In fact, it was more like a punch.

"I have no time for such drivel," Loki's hands clenched, remembering what happened last time he had attacked someone. Knowing that there was nothing he could do to protect himself or his own secrets from those who would use them as weapons against him. Knowing that deep down, he would accept it because he knew that he deserved it. Knowing that he accepted it, while holding onto something that he had not wished to even contemplate before this moment – before this moment standing at this tree – the feeling of hope. "I am returning to the vehicle."

Swivelling around, he stalked off, cursing the Avengers, Midgard and the Festival poppycock which made him want spew. _What is it about this holiday that it can conjure such insanity? Thor's words. Memories of Asgard. Memories... of Mother... Am I so soft as to believe that there is a possibility that a person such as I can find some kind of happiness after all this? Truly, living among the Midgardians has made me a mockery of who I once was, now I am no better than the other weak-minded, irrational creatures with whom I crawl in this dust. By the Norns, if only I could find some kind of death at this moment no matter the dishonour..._

"Tony," Pepper sighed. "He's not... you know, exactly... stable. Can't you let him be just for one second?"  
"Nope," grinned the genius. "Too funny. Hey, Thor."

Thor didn't reply, mind obviously far away, contemplating something not very encouraging, judging by the sadness in the big blues.

"He's insane," Clint shook his head. "We were just joking around about him being blue. Everyone knows he's depressed. Hell, he probably knows he's depressed. Really. That guy makes no sense."  
"There's more going on here," Bruce said unerringly. "You want to let us in on it, Thor?"  
"It's part of... his story..." Thor replied after a moment. "To say much more would intrude on his privacy."  
"Criminals don't get privacy," Clint's eyes glinted.  
"Not a criminal anymore, Barton," Steve had to point out. "He's finished serving the main portion of his time."  
"The answers are there," Tony smirked. "You just haven't taken the time to look with that myopic vision of yours, Clint. Otherwise, you'd have found it a long, long time ago."  
"Hey. You know about it?"  
"Tony," Steve raised an eyebrow. "Is this another thing I shouldn't ask about?"  
"Uhhh.. maybe? A little? Clint, it's called being at the right place, at the right time. Actually, being at two right places at two right times. And then some. Like, uh, stuff that Cap here doesn't need to know about. And um, drinks also came into play."  
"You got my brother drunk and he divulged the matter to you?" Thor's voice rose a little roughly.  
"Hey, hey. Not drunk. I said drinks. I didn't say he got drunk. Asgardian or whatever, right? No. He just... loosened up a bit. And I knew things already. So it was just a matter of, well, nodding and acceding to the truth is all." Tony shrugged. "No big deal."  
"No big deal," Bruce reiterated dazed.  
"And you think we could figure it out if we wanted to?" Natasha's gaze sharpened on the billionaire.  
"Perhaps. I don't know. And besides. It's no use to SHIELD. No weapon of mass destruction for our main man Fury. Sorry."  
"Did he show you..." Thor's voice broke in – then paused. "Never mind."  
"No, he didn't. Froze over a good glass of whiskey though – or was it scotch? Can't remember... Probably 'cause I was kinda on my way to a little drunk myself."  
"Wow. Just. Wow." Clint shook his head.

Pepper sighed. That was Tony Stark for you. Genius. Playboy. Billionaire. Philanthropist. And the man who could get an ex-God of Mischief to open up just a little.

Thor's gaze turned and the blue eyes focused on the hunched shoulders of his younger brother. Loki didn't get in the car – no doubt realizing that the paranoid archer had locked the vehicle up well before leaving it there. Slumping against it, arms folded on his chest, Loki literally looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, glaring at his feet as they made circles in the snow.

"We kinda ruined his evening," Jane noted sympathetically.  
"Well, now we know the colour blue is taboo," Barton grinned.  
"Clint," Natasha said warningly.  
"Yeah, yeah. Won't say anything on the ride home."  
"Good."  
"But it must be huge," the archer continued, unable to let the topic go. "It really did seem to make him – well, even more enraged than before."  
"It is something he fears and hates above all else," Thor said after a moment. "Himself."

The snowflakes drifted down, melting as they landed on the blue warm bulbs. Thor wondered what would happen if he were to see his brother for who he truly was. _Will I recoil and break his heart? Or will I pull him into my arms and welcome him home as I have wished to these many long years? May the Norns give me the strength to do the right thing. That I may look into his eyes and whether I see sadness, regret or hate, I will continue to recognize my brother's fractured soul for what it is. My brother.  
_

* * *

**OK. Sooo... What do you guys think? REVIEW? PLEASE? Pretty pretty please?**

**Anyways... On to Angst Tracks... Another good one is "Gladiator" OST by Hans Zimmer. (And on that note, anyone think Man of Steel is a bit toooooo Gladiator-esque soundtrack wise? Yeahhh...) Anyways. I really love the first track on the album. Any track in the album that involves the haunting penny whistle thing gets my vote_. _The rest is basically overplayed... Sadly.**_  
_


	25. Secret Dreams: Part One

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**A couple of things...**

**1. THANKS FOR REVIEWING!**

**2. Been YouTubing my brains out. End result: Hiddleston on the brain. Nooo! Why do I do this to myself?**

**3. This chapter didn't end how I expected. I decided to break off the last third and attach it to the next chapter... Hm. Yes. Cliffies... Sorry.**

**4. My right hand has a weird swelling right behind the thumb on the back of my hand. It's like a muscle was pulled. Not a bruise, because the skin didn't change colour... Potentially disturbing. Maybe I need to put on my carpal tunnel hand bandage and wrap it up? I don't remember how or when it started.**

**5. Remember you can check out my new tumblr 'mischiefmakerloki'!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 25  
Secret Dreams: Part One

"Then all is silent and the snow falls  
Settling soft and slow  
The evening deepens and the grey  
Folds closer earth and sky  
The world seems shrouded, far away."  
("Snow" - sung by Loreena McKennitt)

"We need to talk."

It was Steve. Down again in Tony's lab, watching as the genius-inventor hooked up some screens and tapped at a few buttons before rocking back on his heels happily. Looking, as usual, a little unease but determined.

"You always need to talk," Tony shot back, eyes never leaving the screen.  
"That's calling the kettle black, Tony, and you know it. It's about Loki."  
"It always is. When isn't it? At this rate, I'm beginning to think there's a justifiable reason for his narcissism... What's it now? He put syrup in your shoes? You woke up with him looming over you in a creepy way? He said something to Jane and made her cry?"  
"It's the plan for this afternoon."  
"We need a plan? Really? I don't know what you think this is all about, Cap, but it's just a small snowball fight in a friend's field. Make a snowman. A few snow angels... Well. OK. Maybe for Loki he'll make a snow devil. But you get my point."  
"And there's Clint."  
"You think he'll try to kill Loki with snow? OK. That'd be interesting to see. Impossible, right? I mean, Loki survived a black hole. And fell through hard vacuum. So he can't need oxygen – so burying his face in a snow drift can harm him too much – wait," Tony paused, now sidetracked by a thought. "If he can breath in hard vacuum, how does he talk?"  
"Maybe he can't talk in hard vacuum?" Steve asked sensibly.  
"Good point, Cap. I can see your science is finally catching up to you."  
"It's common sense, Tony. I'm not stupid."  
"Uh. Yeah... so, um... 'kay. He can't talk in vacuum. Well. Not like he had any company. That we know of. Yet. You think he'd be up for experimentation? I could set up a chamber –"  
"If you paid him, he might be up for it," Bruce piped in mildly from his corner of the lab where he had set up his computer. Tony and he were attempting to isolate Asgardian particle radiation – and he discovered more and more how convenient was to just stay in Tony's lab instead of running up and down in the elevator. "You know – pitch it like a job. Say he just has to sit there for half an hour or whatever. Do you your thing and pay him something like a hundred bucks."  
"Huh. Like student trials at university."

Bruce twitched at some far off memory. "Yeah... like that... but more supervised."  
"Tony."  
"Oh. You're still here," Tony sighed finally focusing on the tall man before him. "OK. So you think Clint will flip?"  
"Well, he's upstairs pitching the idea of having a snowball fight war to Thor."  
"Oh great. That's going to go so great. Thor will be faster on that than on pop tarts. And that's fast. OK. Um. What are you going to do? Time out all around? Postpone it for another day when everyone's calmed down?"  
"I was thinking more doing something strategic. Like making us two the opposing captains and then putting Loki and Clint on the same team –"  
"Uh, that's not gonna happen."  
"Yeah... I was afraid of that... but maybe –" Steve said hopefully.  
"No. Not going to happen," Tony shook his head. "But. We could make sure to keep Loki away from Clint."  
"This isn't going to end well either way, is it?" Steve sighed.  
"Nope," Tony grinned. "It's going to be fun though."

Bruce mumbled something but refused to reply to Tony even though the shorter man poked him several times in the ribs.

-0-0-0-

Four hours later, around three in the afternoon, everyone was surveying a white open field which belonged to one of the directors on Tony's board. His country home, Tony had explained. The group had settled down in two copters which Pepper had smoothly commissioned for the day. Once again, Loki felt as though Stark had more money than he knew what to do with. As a prince – _ex-prince_ – of Asgard, he fought to stay unimpressed.

The air, cool, crisp and clean, wasn't too cold thanks to a warm sun which shone down at the otherwise desolate landscape. White and black and shades of grey. Stark trees which lined the road and small squares of field stretched upward into the egg-shell blue sky with stark silhouettes. Underneath their feet, snow crunched, rising to their shins, as yet untouched – and, according to Pepper, unusually deep for the time of year. Considering there wasn't much of a wind (or even a chill), it looked to be an amazing day for what they had planned.

Happy, who had tagged along at Pepper's request, set down a Tupperware box which Pepper and Jane had packed. The two women now hastily opened it, ordering the men around, getting them in pairs to roll up varying balls of snow. Natasha and Clint prepared the heads. Bruce and Steve worked on the middles with Thor and Tony erecting the bottoms. Loki, stood on the side, again. Arms folded, face fixed in a permanent sneer as he watched his brother run around trying to set up the snow men.

_Too cool for school_, Pepper rolled her eyes before calling him over. He edged over, reluctantly, obviously suspicious about what she had planned for him.

"I've got a special job for you," she smiled up at his narrowed eyes, noticing how pale he seemed now he stood under the light of the bright sun.  
"Indeed," he said, arms still folded, but hands clenching his biceps a bit more tightly than before.  
"I gathered up some stuff so that we can personalize the snowmen," she grinned. "Check it out. One of Tony's ties. Steve's suspenders. Stuff like that."

Loki stared at the outstretched items blankly.

"I need you take them over to Jane."  
"I am an errand boy," Loki said.  
"Uhhh... yep."  
"That is your special job," he repeated. "Being an errand boy." He took the offending items and held them up. "This once again proves the small-mindedness of mortals. Never have I been less happy to be proved right."  
"Get thee going," Pepper put her hands on her hips. "To Jane. March."

He wasn't scared of Pepper. Oh no. But Loki found himself scuttling over double time with the items before returning and repeating with other articles belonging to the Avengers. After a moment, Tony joined him with a ton of crooked sticks to shove into the middle balls, which Loki had come to realize were the 'torso's of the snowmen. Eyeing the others, the dark-haired ex-god of Mischief could see no sign of laughter at his expense. _But surely this is something children would do_, he thought confused as Thor was directed by Jane to affix carrots for noses to the nine snowmen. Buttons were added to a few – Steve's, Bruce's and Tony's snowmen. Ties. Scarves. Hats. A fake quiver. A holster with a fake gun (painstakingly taped into the branch hands). Loki eyed the sceptre in his own snowman's hand, complete with a super large plastic bauble.

"This is meant to be a jest?" he glared at Tony, who shrugged and smiled back amiably. No doubt enjoying Loki's tension and unease.  
"What are you talking about?" Tony said, easing on a black wig which had suspiciously long hair slicked back and just curling on the ends. "It's pretty close to the real thing. All thanks to that fan girl of yours at Walmart, I'll have you know."  
"He's right!" Bruce said, brushing past. "You and I, Loki... we have fans. Isn't that exciting?"  
"Yeah," Tony tipped his head and smirked up at the confused demigod. "Not that that means much to you. It's kinda sad that there are people out there who'd you know – never mind. Not going there. Not even going to put that in your mind. Anyways... back to the snowmen costuming... Great prop, huh? If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was the real Glowstick of Destiny."

Loki ground his teeth.

"This is not amusing, Stark."  
"Uh. No. That's your lack of humour talking there. Did I say lack? Sorry. Your humour died long ago. Time to resurrect it, Rock of Ages."  
"Pardon? What did you call me?"  
"Ah! Look! Picture time! You bring – ah... Forget it. We'll get Thor to send the picture to your mother. She'll love Loki snowman. We even got green buttons for your eyes! Can't get more awesome than that."

The next half hour was spent taking pictures of snowmen and of people with their snowmen. Then pictures of people with other people's snowmen doing incomprehensible things. And a few other less classy, more crassy/deviant things. Eventually, it all got out of hand and, like a schoolteacher, Pepper called everyone over for snow angel time.

Watching his brother move his arms up and down, his legs in and out, while chatting with Jane who was lying down beside him on the snow, Loki decided that there was no way in Helheim that he was going to take part any further in such absurdities. _Muspelheim will freeze over before I allow myself to be caught up in such childish trivialities. _He glowered at how happy his brother and his wench looked. _If I stepped on him at this moment, he would totally be unmanned and his woman would see him for the weakling idiot that he is. Of course, I would then be victim to this – this curse... If I had my magic, I would do more than torment my brother. I would make it that any memory of Christmas would only bring tragic memories of the deaths of the mortals he called shield mates. I would –_ Loki stopped as he realized he wasn't exactly sure what he could do to make this all better. Which made him feel even more impotent and angry. He whirled around – to find himself facing a not so fake Midgardian weapon – the business end of Natasha's gun.

"I'd get down there if I were you," she said. "If I had to make a snow angel, there's no way in hell you'll get out of making one."  
"Lady Natasha..."  
"Run out of insults, Loki? So soon?" the red-haired assassin shook her gun. "Down. On your back."  
"Is that how you would like me?" he replied silkily.  
"I'd like you dead. But if I can't have you dead, having you making a snow angel will be just as good. Got the video ready, Clint?"

Clint was already behind her with his eternal phone in hand. Loki wanted to lean forward, snatch the metallic object and crush it like it was paper. But there was Natasha. And her gun. And although it would only sting a little to take a bullet to the chest, Loki didn't really want to find out what would happen to his brain if the weapon were to hit him in the head. A fight would undoubtedly ensue. Which would result in incredible pain, resulting in nothing but making him look the fool all over again. To make him look like a fool all over again forever - caught on Clint's ever ready recording device.

Fuming, he stepped back, careful to avoid Thor and inched down onto his heels, before hitting the snow finally. Loki's eyes never left Natasha's gun or her face. Green eyes glittered poisonously up at her as he tipped his head back. She merely cocked her gun.

"Anytime soon will be good, Loki," she said calmly. "The sooner you do it, the quicker it'll be over. Like pulling out a tooth."  
"Time is relative," he said but laid back suddenly as Thor and Jane loomed up.

Steve was also coming into view, his smooth face marred with an uncomfortable frown.

"Natasha," he was saying, exasperated. "We don't force people to take part in Christmas activities like this. Definitely not being forced by a gun."  
"We do now," she shot back. "Move those arms, Loki. Nice and easy."  
"Call your woman off, Barton," snarled Loki.  
"Uhhh... she's not my woman," Barton shook his head. "Not really. C'mon," he cooed. "I know you can do it. If Thor can do it, surely his much more intelligent younger brother can figure it out."

Closing his eyes and imagining the fiery death of Clint followed by an incredibly slow and violent death of the killer woman, Loki stiffly moved his arms up and down. _I'll kill him with fire and her with knives... Long knives and short blades and..._

"There, see. It feels better already," Natasha eased back.  
"Just a little bit more, brother!" Thor said, hopping along side to cheer his brother on.

_Oh. Right. Thor. Yet another person to kill on another day._ When he was less busy. Less busy making snow angels. Less hampered by a curse.

"I am not your brother, Thor."  
"Yes, he is," several voices chorused tiredly.  
"OK. I think it's good," Jane's soft voice broke in through Loki's rapidly crowding murderous rage. "If you ease sideways and up to your feet, you won't destroy it. There – look – see. It looks lovely!"

Loki, coming to his feet with the enviable grace of a cat, turned to look at his snow angel – tall and thin and very much imprinted on the ground and in the cameras of everyone who wanted a photograph. _Foolishness_, he spat to himself and stalked off.

"It's missing something..." Clint ran around to the top and added two huge horns. Natasha drew in a pitchfork. "Yeah. Much better. Even more awesome."

More photos.

"Now then," Thor looked up at Pepper and Jane. "What's next?"

-0-0-0-

An awkward picnic lunch in the copters was up next – warm turkey sandwiches, shwarma (because, according to Tony, Bruce couldn't live without it), coffee in thermoses and chips. Loki wolfed down his share. Cradling his head in his still too thin arms, Loki sighed. There was nothing that he could eat which would fill the ache in his stomach. A never ending hunger which gnawed at him. _Always there. Ever since the Void..._

In front of him, a hand moved into view. A sandwich. Another one. Looking up, he recognized that the hand belonged to his brother.

"You need to eat more," Thor said. "Eat."

For a moment, he wanted to shove the sandwich away - smack it against his brother's stupid face. _But it would be a waste..._ Grudgingly, he mumbled a thanks as he took it and bit once again into soft bread, thick slices of meat and fresh vegetables. He had told Thor that his dreams would not be bought – but faced with what he needed most (_ah! I promised not to admit this to myself... why, Loki, why_), Loki began to wonder if it was worth it to sacrifice something that would in the end, undoubtedly, only bring even more trouble down upon his head._ And that is how pathetically low you have fallen, Loki_, he thought to himself. _In the end, you are too easily bought. With nothing. Because you are nothing. _

He gripped the sandwich and kept eating, focusing on even breaths and slow chewing. It would not do for them to know, to guess, how frightened he was of their foolish kindness. How frightened he was of himself.

-0-0-0-

With this frame of mind, Loki entered the snow battle. It began innocuously enough with Steve Rogers' Son taking charge.

"I'll be Team One Leader. Tony's going to be Team Two Leader. Who're you going to choose, Tony?"  
"Uh. Loki."

Loki's head shot up in disbelief and confusion. The Avenger had chosen him. First. Chosen him first. Loki was never chosen first. On Asgard, he had always been the last option, the unwanted tag-along during mock battles. _If ever there is a cause to think the Son of Stark was insane, this is it._ But he couldn't help but feel just a tiny bit pleased. He smirked at Thor who rolled his eyes.

"OK," Steve nodded. "Clint. And Thor."  
"Hey. You can't choose both!"  
"You've got one demigod. I get the other. It's only fair."  
"OK. Fine. I get Bruce."  
"Natasha."  
"You would." Tony gave him a disgusted glare. "Jane."  
"Uhh... I'll stay out of this one," Pepper said. "Gotta go and make sure the hospital helicopter will be prepped to launch at a moment's notice."  
"I'm not sure if she's serious..." Clint eyed the strawberry blonde as she walked off to the car, already talking on a phone. "Is she serious?"  
"Maybe," Tony shrugged. "OK. Let's divide the field evenly. Night's going to fall fast here, so we need to get started now."  
"Right – but a few rules first."  
"Seriously? It's just a snowball fight –" Then, he caught sight of what Pepper was hauling out of the container she had brought. A red and green pennant. Handing Tony the green one and Steve the red one, Pepper stepped with a grin. "Capture the flag? OK. So, the regular rules, then? No problem."  
"Yes, we all know the rules, Tony," Steve rolled his eyes. "Except for our fellow Asgardians. OK. Thor, Loki... anyone who hasn't played it in a while, this is how it goes. This field is split into two sections. You see where Happy is marking out that line on the snow? That's half of the field. On each half of the field, each team builds a fort or puts up a defensive position of some sort. You hide the flag. Then, you try to get the other team's flag. The minute you get the other team's flag onto your own territory, without ceding yours, is when you win. Each team can section off a prison, which will be marked by one of these..." Here Pepper came back with two small yellow plastic pylons. "These yellow, uh, pylons. To send an enemy to prison, you first have to catch them. No hitting. Or using snowballs with rocks inside. No throwing ice or punches. No use of weapons either. Just tapping them or touching them, tags them and they must be walked to prison. And... to free a person from prison, someone from the team must visit the jail and free their comrade with another tap." Here, Steve eyed his own team apprehensively. "Is that clear?"  
"As glass," Loki sniffed. "A game in which strength and force is less needed..."  
"Basically, yes."  
"I'm going to kill you, Clint," Tony said seriously, taking his pylon and gripping his flag.  
"Why me?' complained the archer. "Blame Thor. He's the one who wanted to play it!"  
"Yeah, but somehow I don't think they played Capture the Flag on Asgard. Somehow I have this funny feeling someone was blabbing in his ear about it. Somehow I think it was you."  
"Somehow, you're sounding a bit more like Fury," Natasha added with a snicker.  
"Ooooh. Nice one, Natasha. Nice one. OK. Uh... We'll take the south field, I guess. And our prison will go back there – Loki –" The God of Chaos, Mischief and Etc grabbed the pylon and ran away from where Tony had pointed and instead was rushing to the north-east corner of the south field. "Uh... Loki! Hey! What the hell are you doing! Get back – you know what, Steve, let's, um, start now and get stuff underway. I've got a God of Mischief to control."  
"Good luck," chuckled Clint sadistically.

Tony glared as the four walked off easily, confidence in every step. Thor was already boasting about his might and Natasha looked like she had a plan formulating in her head already. Clint was saying something to the effect that it was going to be like stealing candy from a baby.

"Perhaps we should let them win the first round, in order for them to gain confidence?" Thor suggested gamely.  
"Ah... naww..." Clint flapped a hand. "Let's just crush them."  
"Sounds more appealing, I admit," Thor eyed his brother who was stalking back to Tony. "But things could go very wrong, I have a feeling."  
"Let's not underestimate them," Steve said. "I know we can do this, but we need to keep calm."

Thor and Clint laughed and even Natasha had to grin. Crush them indeed.

-0-0-0-

"OK. Mind if I say that we may be a little bit in deep shit?" Tony said, fifteen minutes later after their group had finished building a strong, curved wall behind which Jane and Bruce were gamely creating a stash of snowballs. Loki was also pitching in with a strange, peculiar, competitive fervour. Tony remembered the brothers' competition on the slopes of the Rockies.

_OK. Maybe not peculiar... But disturbingly excited about this. And I'll need to talk to him about where he put the jail pylon...This could get rough._

"I have been considering our strategy," Loki said as he considered the pendant which laid on the ground.  
"Uh-huh. Thinking is good." Tony nodded. "This is going to be more of a game of strategy than anything else. Just – don't plan on us killing anyone."  
"And I'm not going to Hulk out just to get a stupid flag either," Bruce added.  
"For which we are all thankful," Loki replied sardonically, green eyes flickering over to the quiet scientist. "Rather, I am considering what our opponents have in ways of strength and what we possess to counteract them."  
"And..."  
"Intelligence, speed and myself."  
"Yeah. OK. Intelligence, check. Speed, in a way. We can all run fast... All those years spent running from bullies in elementary school and high school. Bruce and I have running down pat –"  
"Although your legs are rather short, I am sure you make up for it in vigour," agreed Loki peaceably, only a tiny smile betraying his happiness at being able to send a small barb Tony's way.  
"Ha. Ha. Hah." Tony grunted. "Short jokes? Really? Sharpen that battle humour, Loki. We're going to need it. What's your idea?"  
"They said we had to hide our flag," Loki said. "Not where we should hide it."  
"OK..."  
"And the persons we need to fear most is Natasha and the Captain."  
"What about your brother?" Jane asked. "He's... well... big. He could probably break my back with his pinkie."  
"Yes. But he is easily led by the emotion of the moment. As is Clint."  
"Ohhhhh..." Tony turned to Loki, realization and understanding lighting up his brown eyes. "I know exactly what you mean."  
"Uh... What?"  
"Bait, Jane." Bruce explained. "We've got the perfect bait."  
"Loki," Jane breathed. "Right."

Loki was poking his head up and eyeing the opposite fort which stood tall, back against the north-most side of the field. He nodded at the sight of Clint already on watch duty.

"I have a feeling that the Archer will be placed as the watcher of the fort, looking to the long-range defence of the tower." Loki seemed to have slipped into some kind of military counsellor persona – as if he were channelling some kind of general. Tony, eyeing the ex-God of Mischief, wondered how many times Loki had given such kinds of counsel during war. "This means that the Soldier, the Spider and my – Thor – and Thor will take the position of offence. It is imperative I face the Spider. I will lure her to our side and bring her to the dungeon immediately."  
"Jail." Bruce corrected mildly. He paused at the sight of Loki's glare. "Or dungeon. Dungeon works fine too. Appropriately scary sounding."  
"Right. Which is why you put the jail closer to the border than I would have liked," Tony breathed. "It's not close enough to our fort for her to be tagged and freed by incoming enemies – nor is it too close to the border, so that if she were freed, she'd have longer to get back to her fort. Brilliant, Loki. OK. So. Who confronts Thor?"  
"I'll take him. You take Steve," Bruce said quickly. "What do you mean about the flag, Loki?"  
"Well," Loki paused, eyeing the group carefully. "This is what I thought..."

Fifteen minutes passed during which the group listened to Loki's idea and then nodded with rising excitement. Tony tweaked a couple of things in the plan, but in the end, he began to feel like there was a much higher percent chance of winning than he had thought before. Steve's shout roused Tony and his group to stand up and wave back.

"You guys got everything down?" Steve called.  
"Yeah!"  
"You do realize your jail pylon is still way out in the field over there."  
"Yeah – I know – uh – it's fine. Whatever!"  
"OKAY! Don't blame us if you fail, you suckahs!" hollered Clint.  
"You'll never know what hit you, little brother!" Thor added. "You and your team are going to go down faster than an elf underneath a –"  
"Uh. Let's just stop there, guys," sighed Steve. "Let's not bully them."

"Ignore the bastards," grumbled Tony. "We might be short – well, except for Loki, but we're still awesome. And smart. Which is more than I can say for our enemies. OK. Everyone. Remember your positions. Let's do this thing."

In the end, the whole "battle" took less time than they had thought it would. The sky was now definitely darker and a biting chill wind was rising. Pepper, on the sidelines, hopped from one foot to the other uneasily. Happy just looked stolid.

Coming out from their fort, Thor, Steve and Natasha emerged slowly, walking down the field, well spread out – the usual up front strategy which Thor loved. But Loki was sure Natasha was up to something. He didn't trust that woman for a moment. Bruce and Tony stuck a bit closer together as if they thought being together would make them a bit more impregnable. Loki bit back a laugh as Tony exaggeratedly inched over to the border line, looking more like an uncertain genius nerd about to get beat up by the jocks. Bruce also looked awesomely hesitant.

Then Natasha was over the border and swinging past his way, pelting him with snowballs which she had been holding in her arms. Loki responded by throwing his own and kept dancing around the border, making sure that he was not touched by her – but looking for that opportunity to draw closer. His fingers and arms were beginning to tingle alarmingly. Gritting his teeth, Loki cursed the spell. _It is only snow, for Odin's sake. Surely this cannot be considered harm! But I have endured worse – I can survive this._ As the fight continued, the pain began to spike sharply up his elbows into his shoulders. Loki clenched his teeth and began to concentrate a bit more.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Thor dashing toward Bruce. Bruce looked like he was trying to confront Thor head on, but then he drew up just as he arrived at the border, allowing for Thor to twist past with a laugh, spraying the scientist in the face with a mass of snowballs. Jerking his glasses off, Bruce glared and then began to head northward, into enemy terrain.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Natasha lobbed a handful of snow in Loki's face, but he was already ducking forward, hand outstretched, as her arm arced over where his head had been. Left foot skidding outward, right foot anchored in the snow, Loki twisted back and around, coming up behind Natasha and pushing her solidly forward, claiming her as captive.

As he marched the prosaic Natasha (too serene for his liking) to her prison, he watched Steve and Tony duke it out with snowballs each trying to hit each other on their own successive pieces of land – until Steve dived past Tony and Tony twisted forward, apparently tripped over his own feet and Steve was running past with a deprecating laugh.

Cursing, Tony heaved himself up and began to run forward. Loki was flanking him, and just as they had thought, Clint's attack was focused on the oncoming ex-God of Mischief. Running forward, laughing and roaring with mock (or maybe not) battle rage, the archer was pelting Loki hard – aiming with alarming accuracy at his face. Loki fought back, yelling incomprehensible things in Asgardian, curses no doubt. Tony eyed the two, trying to make sure that Clint's attack wouldn't turn too serious.

Bruce had edged up around the trees and was in the fort before Clint could say 'knife' – pulling the flag charmingly affixed to the wall off. In moments, he was beating it back down the west side of the field, Tony at his side.

"We shouldn't leave him alone with Clint," Bruce found himself gasping, a stitch growing in his side. He was getting too old for this. "The guy's going to kill Loki."  
"Hardly," Tony grunted. "Loki survived the Hulk. He's hardly going to die from a bit of snow in his face."  
"Still... it's not good for Clint either."  
"Once we get over the line – Clint got Loki yet?"  
"Not touched him yet."  
"Awesome. Keep it up, Reindeer Games." Tony muttered to himself. "Almost there."

The two passed their border and let out a crazed yell. Jane hollered back, waving her arms as she turned away from the prison (she had just put Thor in timeout). Steve emerged from Team Two's fort looking puzzled.

"We got your flag! SUCKERS!" Tony flapped the red pennant.

Thor sighed, pouted. Jane grinned up at him and gave him a kiss as a consolation prize. Natasha rolled her eyes._ I've been beaten by computer nerds and civilians. I hope Fury and Hill never find out. I won't be able to live it down..._

"YOU GOT THAT, PEPPER – HAPPY?"  
"YEP!" Happy roared back. "Everything is being uploaded to JARVIS, Mr. Stark! Amazing strategies as always, sir!"  
"Go, Tony!"  
"Where's your flag?" Steve asked, as the group gathered in the middle of the field.

Pepper ran up, cheeks red, face lit up with pride and happiness. Arms sliding around Tony's waist, she leaned in for a brief kiss before pulling away.

"Well, it wasn't my idea at the beginning," Tony had to admit. "It was really Rudolph's idea. He's the one with the flag – speaking of which, where IS Rudolph?"

* * *

**Where IS Rudolph... Uh-oh... **

**Tell me what you think! Shoot me a review! I love hearing from you guys!**


	26. Secret Dreams: Part Two

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Author's Note  
**

**So heyyy... Yep. Another installment of Christmas Magic. Happy times. Or... not...  
**

**(STARES AT REAMS OF ANGST)  
**

**What the heck happened to this chapter? It's out of control! (prostrates self before readership) SO SORRY! This chapter was supposed to be funnier, but Loki feels just got in the way. Ah wells...**

**(sigh)  
**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 26  
Secret Dreams: Part Two

"Its noises sleep, and I as secret as  
Yon buried stream plod dumbly on and dream."  
("Snow" - sung by Loreena McKennitt)

The white snow is gone.

But the cold remains. It remains deep within his bones. His very marrow.

It is his secret.

No matter how many mortals rally around him to offer cheer. No matter how warm his hearth may be. No matter how welcoming the arms of his brother – _not-brother, Thor_ – and mother are, Loki knows it is too late.

No Midgardian festival can change this. No Asgardian acceptance (however well-meaning or sincere it may be) can ease it. No tears can melt it nor can fire eradicate it.

His frozen core.

There since birth, he supposed – a product of Jotunheim and the truth of his very being, very existence, very life. And not entirely physical. Not merely physical. It is lodged deep within his chest and it grew bigger when the Void called to him and he answered.

When he had let go.

Like a frozen star, he had fallen silent then. Left alone with only memories and a failing, flickering sense of what 'Loki' even meant. And when he was "rescued" from the eternal dark (it lodged in his throat and chest and gut and spread through him like paralyzing poison until even his mind was not certain of he was anymore), Loki found no family waiting there to draw him back to the place where he belonged. The place he could call home. A place no more. A place he wondered had perhaps not existed for true.

There was only pain, the dim light of stars, the vastness of gas and space and an overwhelming sense of emptiness...

And cold.

-0-0-0-

There were days when he woke up in a cold sweat. When he wasn't sure if he was himself. Clint Barton. Projectile technical specialist, archer extraordinaire. In those moments, he wasn't sure if he was really lying in his bed. If he was really in the small SHIELD room which he called home. For a moment, he wasn't even sure if his memories were real.

Then, Natasha would stir at his side, awake almost instantly. But she would say nothing, merely turn in his arms and draw his head down, cradling him against her shoulder, her hands running up and down his back comfortingly. There was only silence. There was nothing they could say that had not already been said before.

So, in her wisdom, Natasha usually lay there, until his breathing calmed and he placed a chaste kiss on her lips. Sometimes, that was enough and they allowed sleep to claim them again. Sometimes, the memory of killing his friends, the empty eyes of Phil and the feeling of something dark crawling in his head was just too strong.

There were ways to exorcise that as well.

He knew, rationally speaking, that killing Loki wasn't going to solve anything. It would ease something, but until the day he died, Clint knew that he could never lay himself to rest. No matter how many times people told him 'it's not your fault', he knew. He KNEW. He had been open.

He had HEART.

So, when he noticed that Loki's face had turned away to avoid another snowball to the face, Clint knew that this wasn't going to help one bit. But it was there – the need to at least show the clever bastard what he had inflicted on everyone. Before he could think it through entirely, Clint had kicked downwards on the back of Loki's leg, bringing the God tilting forward onto his hands and knees with a short grunt of pain and a biting curse.

"Freak." Clint spat out bitterly. "You think you can lie to us – to yourself about who – what you really are?"

When Loki turned awkwardly, hand clasping his right knee, he was met with another snowball to the face and then a hard foot to his gut, forcing all of his food up and out before he could stop himself. A following blow to his solar plexus left him gasping as he unconsciously rolled over, hardly aware of the luncheon he had enjoyed now sticking to his clothes and face.

"Think you can come around whining and expect us all to forgive you like yesterday never happened?"

More snow balls rained down on him and another blow to his upper back, but Loki barely responded, mind now faraway in another wasteland. Clint drew back then at a familiar faraway look on Loki's face – a frozen look of fear and anger and guilt and shame and self-hatred. He had seen it before. On his own face in the mirror.

"Loki," he growled.

-0-0-0-

_You think you can lie to us – to yourself about who – what you really are?_

He was no longer there. The white snow, chill wind, the rough voice of the Archer, the impact of snow on his face faded as the memories converged. Sibilant whispers offering vengeance upon his enemies, offering him a place to just _be_... Offering him something he knew he could not have, at so great a price and yet so little. _It was a gift, after all, was it not?_

_You are nothing_, it told him. _You are nothing. And what we offer can only make you something. Something is better than nothing, is it not? So what do you say, oh little bit of nothingness who drifted through the sky and does not know its own name?_

He nodded then and the cold fingers around his chin grew longer and sharper, cutting into his cheeks, scraping up against his teeth, breaking past his teeth and crushing bone to reach his skull. _Was it happening for true?_ It was hard to tell – but then those fingers began to rifle through his mind like a collector running his hand over forgotten treasure in a rickety wardrobe. There was nothing lying between himself and the darkness personified.

He had screamed.

When the pressure slowly drew back, eons of time later, he was gifted with a name. _Loki_. He held onto it, for with it came some memory and shattered shards of selfhood melded again, broken and cracked, but strong. He had always been strong. Nothing, but strong.

Time passed and with it more memory. And plans. And talking. And some nights when he lay on the small cot allotted to him with nothing between him and the cold wind and the clear light of stars (they had taken away everything he had called his own – armour and clothing and all). A roofless flet connected by stairs to other, with only a few walls for privacy – he was always watched, as though he could anything but crawl on his belly like the pale, weak, witless worm that he was.

Here he was, in the eternal twilight of the borders, almost on the dark side of these Norn forsaken moon, attempting to close his eyes (but he couldn't, there lay darkness and the Norns knew he had enough of that). He – _Loki – the God of Lies_ – turned the promises offered him over and over, attempting to find the flaws.

Midgard for the Tesseract. It could be true. A part of him wondered though. He shoved his questions deeper down in vain hopes the Titan would not find how easy it was for Loki to mistrust, to question, to stir the pot of Chaos, to double-cross, to lie. There was no love lost between them.

Long days passed, punctuated by Thanos's dark attention followed by the half-hearted, deriding, humiliating Other's ministrations. Fed and watered with irregularity, he ran out of tears easily and his skin grew taut and pale, melting away to reveal twisted bone and a thrumming inner core of magic which could never be tamped down, albeit now rather shredded and hardly a thing of glory as it had been in the past.

And when Thanos finally could look down on him with something like a twisted smile (can absolute evil and darkness have such a face?), Loki knew he would be gifted with other things. His clothing and even more importantly, knowledge. A powerful kind of magic which allowed him project himself even further than before. No longer did he draw upon the familiar magic of the Tree and the Nine Realms and the warmth of Asgard, but Loki, harnassing the power of dark matter and the nothingness of the spaces between, rode the waves of black magic to the small inconsequential world of Midgard, searching it for any signs of the exact location of the Tesseract. Scrying was involved and other sacred rituals. It was a long and arduous task, but in the end, he found it and brought back the news straight away.

Thanos rejoiced. The Other smiled. And when Thanos's arm clasped Loki, drawing him close, Loki knew for certain, with despair, that he had merely traded one kind of dark nothingness for another.

When the day came for him to be sent forth, this bit of nothingness – _Loki, his name was Loki. Always ways. Always would be_ – This bit of nothing knew that he had to somehow get away before he was undone entirely.

Before he knew it, the entire thing was underway and he was in the back of a flying vehicle, finding life again somehow – finding some kind of vigour and enjoyment and energy as he toyed with these puny mortals. _Ah. The dance._ He had long forgotten what it had been like to take part in such kinds dramatic spectacle. Watching them kneel. Before him – before nothing – _no, no, no, before him. HIM. He was a god. They were mere mortals whom he would protect from their baser desires. He would save them._

It was hard to keep track of all this. But then, there was thunder and lightning and he could feel it – the press of a familiar mind and presence. _Brother. Not-brother. Thor._ Suddenly he was there, his strong hands ripping Loki out of the safety restraints and throwing him to Earth.

For a second, Loki wondered if he could sustain it. If his brother – _not-brother – Thor. It was only Thor now._ Thor had the power, the key, the strength to undo his brother so easily. And then, all would go to waste - the artifice. The dance. The spectacle. The plan. The plan. _Theplantheplantheplantheplan ._ He looked up and saw the white, remote stars spread across the night sky. So far away. They looked so cold.

"Where is the Tesseract?"

So cold. And he laughed, riding on the pain and anger as memory swelled and the cold block of rock and ice he had once called a heart hardened further and further until he was certain the strength of it was as great as Mjolnir itself.

"Ohhh... I missed you too."

-0-0-0-

"Loki?"

No response.

"Loki? Hey, uh, buddy..."

When the God of Chaos and Lies and shit didn't respond,Clint drew closer, hand reaching out to jerk Loki around by the lapels of his duster. Loki's face, tight and drawn, was awfully blank. His eyes were empty.

_Shit. I broke the God of Mischief_, Clint cursed. _Thor's going to kill me._

"LOKI!" He yelled, shaking the taller man who hung limply from his grip, still on his knees. Clint drew back an arm and slapped him. His hand was rising again, when it was caught by a familiar slender, yet powerful hand. Natasha.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tony barked out, strutting up all self-righteous and stuff.

But Clint knew what Tony really felt. He could see it not so well hidden in those brown eyes – excited and curious. Something fun and interesting to analyze. There were other emotions too. Shock and anger. Probably because Tony also recognized the look on Loki's face.

"What have you done with my brother. Little brother! Loki!" Thor was already bending over Loki, shaking the ex-God roughly.  
"Ease up there, big guy," Bruce's hand on Thor's shoulder stilled the taller Avenger. "You're freaking him out. Pepper, you got some clothes."  
"Uh. Here's the pennant."  
"He's got the other one. Ah, here." Bruce pulled the green pennant out of Loki's pocket, neatly folded and using both the red and green, wiped off Loki's face and his clothes. The dark-haired ex-God didn't eventwitch at the touch of Bruce's hand. _This isn't looking too good..._

-0-0-0-

"You give up the Tesseract! You give up this poisonous dream."

_Dreams. Yes._ He had had dreams. He had one now. A gift to nothing. A hope of something he couldn't have had before. Recognition. Power. _Another chance to find equality..._

"You come home."

_Home._ Loki's thoughts swirled as he remembered Mother and a warm hearth and gentle laughter and Thor's arms around his shoulders after victorious battle – and his father's slow smile –

"No, Loki.

And nothing had failed. He had failed his father. He had failed Asgard. He had failed Thor. He had failed his mother. And he had failed his dark master. He even failed at taking his own pathetic non-life.

_No, Loki._

_Loki._

"Loki." Someone was calling his name. "Little brother."

_Not your brother. I am no one's brother._

"Loki. He is moving."  
"OK, OK, calm down, Thor," another quiet voice. A gentle hand, dabbing at his face. Something pressed to his lips. Something warm. He choked it down a little. "He's going to be fine. Just – take a breather. The last thing he needs is his older brother freaking out."  
"Loki."

A gold, blue, brown, red smudge swam into view as Loki's eyes watered. For a moment, Loki stared at him, dazed, before his green eyes shifted to find another set of hazel eyes behind smeared glasses. Realization came flooding in. _Bruce. The Beast_. He was too tired to pull away, however.

"What happened, brother?"  
"I am not your brother, Thor," Loki finally managed to get out, chest easing.

Thor smiled down at him as everyone groaned and a few laughed. There had been no heat behind Loki's words. Just habit speaking and Thor, bending over his brother, shielding him from the others as best as he could, looked down into green eyes which held life once again. His brother was cold. _Frost giant_, Thor, he reminded himself. _You are a dull knave to forget that important fact. Loki would laugh at you for your slow-wittedness. And you would deserve it. _

Yet, Thor had a feeling that his brother's hard eyes held promise of another kind of cold. A cold which set deep in the heart. It was as he feared. Yet, Jane had told him that even in the core of cold planets, fire burned. _Loki is strong, so his fire_, he prayed, _lays buried deep down. It still burns._ He would carry enough hope for the both of them, when it was so obvious his brother could not believe in his own worth.

-0-0-0-

The helicopter ride home, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Thor and Loki was quiet. Judging by the sounds coming from the shortwave radio on Natasha's belt, the other copter was full of muted merriment. It had been a good day for the most part, even if the ending had soured. Loki was now forcefully pulled to his side and it seemed that his brother was too fatigued to even complain.

Clint, sitting opposite, with Natasha by his side, did not say anything, merely looked out the copter at the dark skies, jaw set. Natasha looked calm, but troubled. Thor had a feeling the two mortals would have a discussion that evening. He did not think the Son of Barton would come out of it entirely unscathed. A small part of him, a vengeful part, hoped not.

Bruce, on Loki's other side, kept a watchful eye on the dark-haired prince, digging out another canteen of chicken soup, offering it quietly to Loki. He says nothing about how Loki huddles a little closer into the crook of Thor's shoulder as his older brother wraps one warm, strong arm around his bony shoulders.

"You need to eat," Bruce said instead, his fingers forcing Loki's cooler ones around the warm thermos mug. "Losing your lunch isn't – well... You need as much nutrition as you can get. Chicken noodle soup isn't the best," here he winced as his fingers ghosted over Loki's own. "But it's better than nothing. Gosh, you're freezing."

Loki just stared back and then down at the slim, shiny, steel drinking vessel in his hands. Leaning forward, he smelled it carefully before setting it to his lips. It tasted vaguely familiar. Similar to a stew or a light broth the warriors enjoyed many a winter solstice. Comforting. He sipped it again.

"Slowly," Thor said. "Your stomach may not be entirely ready."  
"Especially with a rough ride like this one," added Bruce with a smile.

Loki still found no words to say. Nothing to say in reply to their exhausting kindness.

When they arrived home, he had finished most of the thermos, and Bruce declared it was bedtime and Loki was packed off to bed like a small child. He tried to protest then, but a look from Thor told him it was a lost battle and he caved in. Thor sat with him, in the dim light of a small lamp which Jane and Pepper had dug out and affixed to the wall. _A nightlight,_ she had smiled. _I'll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams, Loki. _

_Naive child_, he sighed, and closed his eyes, turning away. _What kind of dreams can a monster hope to have? Definitely nothing "sweet". I am blessed if I am gifted with nothing but emptiness in the still of the night._ And as the waves of exhaustion swamped him, Loki fell asleep.

-0-0-0-

"You're in deep shit," Tony spun around, skewering Clint with a glare. "I don't know what you said or what you did – but that was a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad move, Barton."  
"What happened, Clint?" Steve ran his hands through his hair, mussing it up, his blue eyes worried. "Did he attack you?"  
"Well. No," Clint sighed. "I don't know. I just saw... red. Got caught up in the heat of the moment. It won't happen again."  
"The hell it won't happen again," Tony said. "That was... I never thought you'd do something so... unprofessional. And that's saying a lot coming from a man who gives authority a middle finger perpetually. I'm not against poking at the current ex-God of Nothing, but don't stab him, y'know? Even I know that letting your inner revenge out on a leash at this point in time is just... overkill – don't you think?"  
"Well. Maybe."

It cost Clint a lot to admit that. Everyone knew, so for awhile, nothing was said. Thor came into the room, looking just a little older than he had earlier that evening.

"He has fallen asleep. For how long, I do not know. I asked Sir JARVIS – JARVIS –" Thor corrected himself absently, a good sign that he too was exhausted. _Mentally_, Tony amended. _Physcially, Thor's like the Energizer bunny. Just keeps on goin' and goin' and goin'._ "To give me word should my brother stir. I am afraid night terrors will visit him tonight. His memories overwhelmed him, I fear."  
"Ah? A flashback?" Steve winced, remembering the faces of the men who had come back from the trenches after seeing too much horror for a mind and heart to cope with. PTSD they called it now. Shell-shock, PTSD. Didn't matter. Loki obviously was dealing with serious trauma.  
"Well, he's lived a long time," Bruce finally said. "And through a lot, I would imagine."  
"Yeah, no kidding," Tony's brown eyes didn't leave Clint's face. "Listen. I've gotten into fights with the guy. Fights I don't feel sorry about in the least. It's so much fun, you know. And, darn it, I just can't resist. He makes it so easy. And like a sadist, he probably enjoys punishing himself to a certain extent. But this was... a little... _more_... than usual."  
"More?"  
"You know, like much of muchness. A little more than moreness."  
"You make no sense," Thor stated bluntly. "All I know is that I fear this Loki with the empty eyes. That is the Loki I met when he was finally raised from the Pit after hundreds of years alone. Where no sight or sound could reach him. It was as if," the blonde frowned, trying to find the right words. "He was a cup which had been poured out until it was bone dry. When the guards took his arms, when I drew close, he came to. A wild thing, unable to accept the touch of another. That was when my father placed the last spells on him. To contain his mindless fury and rejection of the world and himself. I saw this with my own two eyes, but as usual, I saw but did not see, did not understand. Loki had become too sensitive, I think, and being forced to live here on Midgard has not helped matters. Now, I think I can see why he would escape SHIELD and our company so quickly on arrival. And Son of Barton's attack must have... brought to mind something."  
"It wasn't hardly –" Clint wilted under the combined glare of Pepper, Jane and Steve. "Never mind."  
"It had been a tough day already," Natasha concurred. "And the day before that as well... Perhaps we are pushing him too hard. We need to lay off this Christmas cheer and give it a rest. God knows, I'd appreciate it a bit if we – kinda pulled back."  
"No," Jane stopped, as if surprised that she had contradicted a superhero – the Black Widow at that. She blushed, glanced at Thor and then glared at her hands. "I mean. Yes. It's horrible. And painful for Loki – and for us. I mean it. It's wearing on all of us. But, but... he came back to us. He woke up and he turned to Thor. And that's a good sign. If we think of it like a wound, it's like Loki has a scar which hasn't healed underneath and it has stuff underneath – like an infection... Sorry. Am I making sense?"  
"No. I get it," Bruce sighed. "Something healed over – but not properly. There's an infection underneath the scar, pus or imperfectly healed tissue, and it's trapped. This Christmas celebrating is digging a scalpel into the flesh and cutting it open, rebreaking the bone, resetting it, extracting the gunk inside and –"  
"Uh, I think we get the picture," Tony said quickly, realizing that everyone, particularly Pepper, Jane and even Steve, looked a bit nauseous. "Great, um, mental picture there. Would make for another awesome PPT. But I agree with Jane and, uh, Bruce. It's going to be painful. But it's something we gotta do. Maybe, maybe, even though we aren't perfect and don't have all our shit together, the Avengers can not only save the world from a supervillain, but save it from one particularly powerful supervillain – for all time."  
"Redemption?" Steve asked, feeling relieved that Tony was actually beginning to see this for what it was – and was actually taking a lead on something he had been wanting to broach for a while now._ Except when I say it, everyone laughs_. He sighed. _Which makes no sense.  
_"Or the blind leading the blind," Natasha sighed. "I know Fury would be overjoyed to have two Asgardians on the team."  
"So, we still go on with it?" Pepper asked.  
"Yes," Tony nodded.  
"I agree," Jane glanced at Thor.  
"It'll happen," Steve affirmed. "It's an Avenger's mission. We're the only ones who could do it."  
"Well, there's no one else," Bruce sighed. "I'm in."  
"I'll try to stay... out of his way," Clint mumbled. "And not hit him with another snowball. Can't promise much else though."  
"That'll be enough," Natasha smiled, squeezing his hand.

Everyone turned to look at Thor whose blue eyes were watering up again in a rather predictable way. The smile which grew across his face lit him up as though he were the very embodiment of the sun. He drew Jane in close for a quick kiss and raised a fist.

"Thank you, you who are my friends and support. Loki, one day, will realize the heart behind our efforts, poor as they may be. I am sure of it. As Roger's Son said, we are the ones who will succeed, against all odds. Loki's memories cannot stand a chance."  
"We hope," mumbled Bruce.

But everyone looked a bit more determined and content when they parted for the evening.

-0-0-0-

Next morning, Thor staggered into the kitchen looking like hell in a handbasket. Tony and Bruce, both of whom had not enough sleep thanks to insomnia and memories resurfacing, were also up, both of them staring at the dripping coffee maker with something bordering on desperation.

"How's Reindeer Games?" gritted out Tony, feeling like his throat was a bunch of rocks. He had woken up fifteen minutes before, face on keyboard, drool on hand and a bad crick in his neck. He hoped that the marks on his face were fading. It'd be embarassing otherwise. And he didn't trust Bruce to tell him the truth either.

Not that Bruce was talking. He had come down to Tony's lab in search of more coffee and found a bleary eyed Tony who was mumbling swear words as he staggered past him, making a beeline for the stairs.

"My brother?" Thor asked, finding some orange juice and drinking straight from the carton clearly labelled Clint. "He is finally rested. For now."  
"Had a bad night too?"  
"We have all had a difficult night," Thor sighed. "I was not able to rest in my own bed – I feared – well, at any rate, now he rests. But I cannot sleep; it evades me."  
"Hear, hear," grumbled Bruce, deciding not to make Thor feel guilty about the fact that it was Loki's cut cries which had kept him up all night and eventually driven him back to his own lab.  
"The man speaks," Tony cried in mock amazement, drawing out the coffee pot, now filled and pouring three mugs of black coffee.

Bruce began the second round of coffee without a word, waiting for the caffeine to hit his system.

"I can't imagine what Loki must feel like," Tony went on, now that he had his cup of sanity back. "He'll be worthless today for anything. We'd best take Natasha's advice and just lay low. I've got things to sign and toys to tinker with and Bruce to poke and – damn it – gifts to buy."  
"I have considered my gift already," Thor was easing poptarts into the toaster under Bruce's sort of watchful eye. "For Romanoff's Daughter."  
"Supposed to be secret," mumbled Bruce.  
"Loki has knowledge of throwing knives. He could help me craft a set as he once did when I needed to curry favour with Lady Sif. If, Son of Stark, you could lead us to a blacksmithy."  
"Uhhh... I can show you my personal workshop. That might be a good start. Wait, Loki throws knives?" Tony looked impressed. "I didn't think he was into projectiles."  
"He has very good aim and rarely misses," Thor boasted. "It is of course, considered a lesser art beside that of the blade, the mace and the hammer, but still one that is necessary for battle."  
"Well, heck yeah. So. You're going to make Natasha a set of throwing knives. That'll be awesome. For her. Make sure she keeps away from Loki, though. He'd make for a great target."  
"She wouldn't do something like that," Bruce shook his head. "At least, not in anger."  
"That's nice to know," Tony smirked. "I'm not sure what I'd get Jane. She wants all of these girl things, but although I know Pepper could get me stuff like that easy peasey – even JARVIS could do that in his sleep. Not that he sleeps. Uh. Yeah. More coffee." More coffee was poured all around.  
"Wait..." Thor paused, as he took another gulp of coffee, hoping that the Midgardian weakness and receptivity for caffeine would pass to him. "You have Lady Jane?"  
"Yeah. I'll get her something nice," Tony winked. "But, uh, I want to get her something that is, you know, interesting. One of a kind. And cheap. It's actually hard to keep yourself limited to a hundred bucks."  
"So speaks the billionaire," grumbled Bruce again.  
"I have an idea that kind of popped into my head last night. It's percolating – and kinda looking better with time. Involves a life-sized pillow."  
"I can't believe you're even thinking about that seriously. Ideas brought on from sleep deprivation and alcohol are never good ideas, Tony."  
"Don't be such a killjoy, Bruce. Jane will love it. Most girls would. She's the type. At least I'm not getting her a blow up doll."  
"Pardon?" Thor blinked.  
"Nevermind, big guy. Bruce. What about you? Who did you get?"  
"Not saying."  
"C'monnnn! Don't be such a wet blanket. I bet everyone will know who everyone got by the time Christmas Day rolls around. It'll just be a matter of time and elimination. I already know who Steve got."  
"Who did he get?"  
"You, dude," Tony grinned up at Thor. "Can't say what he's gonna get you. But it's gonna be good."  
"Roger's Son," Thor nodded. "Not bad. This is very pleasing."  
"Feel sorry for Loki," Bruce said. "Clint drew his name. He's probably gonna end up with coal and sticks."  
"Hey. Don't knock coal and wood!" Tony frowned and then grinned. "Reindeer Games could use that stuff when he scuttles back to his life on the streets."  
"If he goes back," corrected Thor.  
"Uh, your brother is crazy and hyper independent," Bruce said. "Two necessary requirements for life on the streets, some would argue. Not that I believe that."  
"Enough about Loki," Tony eyed Bruce. "You're avoiding the topic."  
"I got Pepper." Bruce blushed a little. "And I already know what I'm getting her."  
"Do tell? Can I get involved in the gift? Does part of the gift include me?"  
"Uhhh... I'm not going to say more than that," Bruce finally said. "That'll give something for you to figure out between now and Christmas. Keep you busy. OK. I'm thinking waffles. You putting in an order for McMuffins?"  
"Yeah. JARVIS has it coming."  
"Then lab work?"  
"Why not?"  
"OK. I'll join you in a few minutes then."

Others were trickling in and Thor, grabbing his poptarts, Clint's carton and his third cup of coffee slipped out and down the hallway. Easing himself into his brother's dimly lit room, Thor made his way as quietly as he could over to his brother's side, watching as Loki stirred uneasily in his sleep, a catch in his breathing, a trembling of the too nervous hands. It was beginning. Again. The night terrors which had chased Loki, had plagued him all night. Thor's broad fingers brushed against Loki's shoulders which twitched as Loki started awake, gasping. The horror faded from his eyes and his breathing calmed again as realization of where he was settled in once again.

"I am sorry," Loki finally forced himself upright, leaning against the wood headboard of his bed. "Thor... I cannot..."  
"Never mind," Thor assured him. "It is morning and a bright day with some sun. Again. Maybe more snow will fall in the evening, according to JARVIS." Thor offered the carton of orange juice and took another liberal gulp of coffee.  
"This is Barton's," Loki said, his too bony fingers turning the plastic feeling cardboard box.  
"I know."

Loki, catching sight of Thor's grin, quirked a small smile in return and he took a small sip straight from it. Thor broke a poptart and handed his younger brother a warm half. Carefully, Loki ate it, enjoying each sweet bite, knowing his brother had sacrificed much to offer his share of what Thor thought was the best delicacy on Midgard. So he listened when Thor spoke.

"We have had a hard night, but it will get better. That I can promise you." Thor knew he could not tell of the Avenger's new determination, but felt the need to reassure Loki somehow. "I will never give up, brother."  
"Yes," Loki found that somehow he could find another smile. "I know."

Perhaps, in this quiet moment, cradling a carton of orange juice to his thin chest, chin and night clothes dusty with strawberry pastry crumbs, Loki felt less cold.

* * *

**Um. Yeah. So... sorry about that...**

**BUT THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS! THANK YOU! **

**I think I might hit 100 reviews before the end of this story. If you think this story is worth it, please send out a shout! **

**Onto personal life. Such as it is. My copy of SG:1 turns out to be scratched. So I have to get a new set. Good thing I live in China, which is basically bootleg capital. Should I be admitting things like this online? Oh wells.**

**Angst Music 101 continues... with "The Village" OST by James Newton Howard. "Noah Visits", "I Cannot See His Colour" and "The Vote" are my top favourites. Just so gorgeous and lyrical and brings a tear to your eye. **

**That and William Hurt's lines in the movie... "The world turns for love. It bends its knees in awe of it." Or something to that effect. Just too awesome.**


	27. Could Be Happier Maybe Not

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

TO Waffles: Your review was so heartfelt and funny, I had to reread it a couple times. Then I Instagramed it. It might be a tough story to read all in one go, but I'm glad I'm not the only one to gorge on fanfic and get all wasted. I hope you enjoy this update just as much!

**So, next week, I've got to run an English camp. We'll see how my updating cycle fairs thanks to that. Who knows. Stress from dealing with kids may drive me to write more. Or may turn me into a soporific lump of flesh. We shall see. **

**12 MORE CHAPTERS TO GO! (WOW!) Already? Yes. Sadly. And after this? Well. I have this other story that is percolating that involves a Jotunn!Loki with tons of FEELS and mild AU and Loki has tons of FEELS but he's not totally evil! What thinkst thou?**

**Alright! Here goes! Thanks to all my awesome reviewers! Maybe I'll hit 100 reviews? Perhaps? *flutters eyelashes seductively***

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 27  
Could Be Happier... Maybe Not

"It seems so long since I could say,  
"Sister Susie sitting on a thistle!"  
Gosh oh gee, how happy I'd be,  
if I could only whistle (thhhh, thhhh)"  
("All I Want For Christmas (Is My Two Front Teeth) – sung by Spike Jones)

"That one?"  
"Which one?"  
"That one which stands in the far back with the bright shoes."  
"Stop pointing, Thor."  
"Well, little brother, what else would you have me do?"  
"I am not certain, but this is shaming – to stand here gawping like untaught schoolboys," hissed Loki, trying not to hide behind his brother, but very much not wanting to be in the large, open, bright, overly cheery, slightly sweaty-smelling, very noisy fitness station on Level Six of SHIELD's helicarrier.  
"Huh. Close, Point Break. You've got a good eye there. From experience, I presume. And well, you'd have had a lot of experience, with all those years on you. More than I could achieve," Tony had to admit it. "But at least you weren't wasting your years in a coma."  
"You are not too bad yourself," Thor replied, looking a little proud of his abilities. As usual.  
"I myself am surprised my brother has not given into the rough charms of these women beforehand," agreed Loki, a little snottily.  
"Loki!" Thor frowned. "Lady Jane is no woman to be trifled with. To lay with another woman would be a great dishonour to her. She is a rarity which cannot be measured –"  
"I feel ill," Loki said.  
"Just put your head between your knees. Leave the big boy stuff to Thor and I. You see anyone, Bruce?" Tony turned to his friend and long-suffering employee.  
"I'm with Loki on this one," Bruce said. "Why did I agree to come?"  
"Because girls are hot," Clint said reasonably. "And this is a boy outing."  
"If it's a boy outing, why isn't Steve here?"  
"Because he is a woman," Loki snorted. "And none of you have realized it yet."  
"Because he is busy?" Thor mused.  
"Because he's a virgin and wouldn't even know where to look," Tony shook his head. "So sad. But true. Whoever gets Steve is honour bound to hire him a hooker. Or a lap dance. Something."

Everyone looked at Loki. Loki who had, as yet, to say anything about the name he had picked. Not that Tony was giving up. No sirree.

"Just choose one," Loki sighed, avoiding the unspoken question. "Anyone near her height will do. How we have spent more than twenty minutes staring is a mystery to me. I am more than certain my measurements were correct – and Barton knows the weight of his lady... friend's equipment..." Awkward pause.  
"Keep going, Rudolph," Tony smirked. "This is getting better and better."

Loki glared at the other men venomously just daring them to laugh at him. Although he had been known as Silvertongue a long, long time ago, it was as though his ability to string a phrase had deteriorated with the loss of his magic. _With the witless pass of time in a hole and living like an animal... With the loss of my selfhood_, he frowned upward at the corner of the room, trying to ignore Thor and Tony's chuckles. _As time continues, their moronic chatter begins to wear on me and soon my conversation will have no more rationally or wit than Volstagg. Death. Death. Death. Death._

"Hey, how about that one –"  
"Which one?"

Heads turned. Discreet fingers pointed. Bruce edged back.

"That one."  
"Oh. Right size."  
"Right weight."  
"How can you tell under that coat?"  
"X-ray vision," Tony replied deadpan.  
"Uh yeahhhh... Right."  
"Oh wait..."  
"Is that not Agent Romanoff herself?" Loki asked now amused as all of the men froze.  
"Awww... shit." Clint shifted uneasily as his partner and on-off again girlfriend approached them, expression none too happy at the sight of the men ogling the rest of the exercisers from their corner of the room by some unused weight racks.

Arms folded, she stared them down. Except Bruce who had found awesome cracks to look at in the floor while he wiped off his glasses. And Loki who was glaring at the wall. As if he wasn't partially cringing behind Thor, as usual.

"Boys," she began. "Is this some messed up boy bonding moment that needs to be broken up?"  
"Uhhhh... what kind of question is that, Miss Romanoff?" Tony drew himself to his full height. "You have no comprehension of what we may be doing here. We may be on reconnaissance. We may be on a mission. We may be doing something related to the vaunted domain of research. We may be considering the next step in our personal fitness regimens."  
"Or you might be checking out all the hot asses," Natasha quipped. "Fury told me to tell you guys to leave everyone the hell alone in here. You're creeping the girls out."  
"Aw... Natasha," Clint said. "It's not like that."  
"It is like that."  
"It was like that," agreed Loki.  
"And, let me guess," Natasha said, tipping her head, disbelievingly. "You weren't taking part."  
"I may be many things, Lady Natasha," Loki shrugged dismissively. "A monster. A killer. A heartless beast. An immortal. The most talented sorcerer in the Realm. A trickster. A liar."  
"A thief?"  
"That as well – but I am not so low as to stoop to such..." He sniffed. "Childish tactics to secure a female's interests."  
"No, you probably use magic or something."  
"Whatever I do, it is not this, I assure you."  
"Comforting."  
"Actually, he's right," Bruce said. "Loki and I are here under duress. I'm glad to hear we have to leave. Let's get to the quinjet, Loki."  
"At last," Loki sagged. "Free. After a fashion."  
"Hey..." Thor protested. "We must..."  
"Do it on your own, Thor."  
"You promised, brother."  
"I am a liar, Thor. And not your brother!"  
"Yes, he is!" replied the usual chorus.

-0-0-0-

Later in the quinjet, the men gathered with their information. The first two models of Loki's throwing knives had been awkward according to Lois, another female operative who had not only been around Natasha's build, but also was familiar with throwing knives. The last three designs were better. After reconsidering the shapes, Loki was ready to bury himself once again in Tony's lab, which had become like a home away from home.

He abhorred the man, but Loki, after discovering the glories of stainless steel, the new vice that Tony had ordered three months ago and the saw blade, found a kind of peace in the noisy industry of crafting knives for his brother. Thor, gifted with a few Asgardian gems which had sold well thanks to Pepper and an auction house, had money enough to pay Tony for the materials and his little brother for the labour. Loki, gritting his teeth, had accepted the charitable offer. He loathed charity. If charity was a mortal, it would have been crushed by a well-placed blow to the head via wrench. Or a hammer. Something hard. Or pointy.

Instead, Loki found himself bent over the small throwing knife, file comfortingly fit into his palm as he smoothed the edges to a fine point. And he was enjoying it. Against all reason.

Tony, watching Loki's sure hands run the files along the edges of the small, increasingly sharp, wickedly twisting blades, had been impressed. There was something oddly bizarre about the idea that Loki was a comfortable creating things with his hands as Tony was. He tried to imagine Thor crafting a blade. _Maybe in a smithy?_

_Perhaps. At any rate_, _Loki has been busy and that means two days of quiet happiness_, Tony smiled to himself. _No tantrums. No flashbacks. At least none that are public. Away from Clint and Bruce... and even Thor gets bored watching him work – well, can't blame him there. If I had to choose between watching Loki or watching Pepper, I know what I'd choose._

After a day of crafting the working models, the trip to the helicarrier had happened. Spiralling out of the control in the usual way, with Steve washing his hands of it (although Loki suspected the harried man had called Fury ahead, as soon as the group of men left in Clint's appropriated quinjet – that's what he would have done). Then the fitness room fiasco, followed by a forced expulsion, followed by meeting Lois, followed by fruitful experimentation – and then home to rework the models into the final product.

When Loki came upstairs for supper, he found himself confronted with something he wished he was merely dreaming (which is saying a lot coming from the God of Chaos, well, ex-God). _This is merely a dream. I will wake up and it will all be over._

It was not to be.

-0-0-0-

"How about this?"  
"No. Still not working."  
"Damn it. I thought it was going to be OK, this time around."  
"Can we just leave it for JARVIS to fix? I'm sure JARVIS could do these in a snap."  
"That's not what Christmas is about, Tony!"  
"C'mon, Pepper. These are going to kill us!"

"Jane, look! It is all stuck to my fingers!"  
"Thor... go wash your hands off."

"Hey, 'Tasha. Knock knock."  
"Not answering, Clint."  
"C'mooon!"  
"OK. Fine. Who's there."  
"Grover."  
"Grover who?" (Deep sigh.)  
"Grover here and make me some cookies, woman! OW! Sorry! Hey! Thor! What – that's my orange juice! It says 'Clint'. C-L-I-N-T. Can't you read English, you oaf."  
"I thirst!" protested Thor. "After such a massive undertaking –"  
"We hardly did anything, Thor."

"OK – what – wait – no – Thor, get out of the fridge now. Supper's on it's way. It'll be here. Tony. Stop it, you're no better!" Pepper twirled around and round, smacking fingers, pushing people away from the fridge, taking a wine glass out of Tony's fingers, trying to rally everyone back around the large island counter. "OK. Natasha and Clint. You are going to measure the ingredients and put them in order into the bowl."  
"We're doing this again?" Clint sighed. "Why?"  
"Just because the first two batches didn't work out doesn't mean it won't work out this time."  
"Third times the charm," Jane grinned. "I'll oversee them, Pepper."  
"Pep, Pep," Tony oozed over. "I'm seriously a waste of air in here – let me go down and check on Reindeer Games – just in case he gets too close to things that might, like, you know... give him bad ideas about..."  
"Tony. No. You and Thor are going to try to make the icing."  
"Again?" Tony asked aghast.  
"With Steve. I'm sure you can get it this time. Remember. Only ONE tablespoon of milk."  
"Let us put less of the red colouring in," Thor said, obviously still enthused despite the Avenger's previous two failures to make a working batch of sugar cookie dough. "That way the resulting colour will look more like strawberry!"  
"That's a great idea," Steve smiled. "The girls will like it."  
"Not that what the girls like matters to you, really," Tony grumbled. "OK. Let's do this. What can go wrong?"

Ten minutes later, Jane and Pepper prodded the dough and nodded. They had a working dough. Apparently. Against all odds. Looking around, they discovered that Bruce was once again trying to edge out of the room. Dragging him back in, they gave him the task of flouring the counter (and himself in the process), while eyeing Steve, Thor and Tony's attempt at pink icing. It looked a bit more soupy than they would have liked. Steve, catching Pepper's minute shake, recklessly dumped more icing sugar in. Thor whipped it up a bit too enthusiastically (which meant more scrubbing of kitchen cupboards for the cleaning staff than they would like).

The white-yellow dough was split as evenly as possible and everyone fought over the cookie cutters for a brief moment. Tony and Clint cursed their relatively shorter heights as they realized that if they weren't tall and brawny like Thor or Steve, a woman like, well, the women, or the Hulk, they were going to end up with the lame ass star cookie cutters.

"Could be worse," Natasha said, rolling out her dough. "You could have a heart."  
"You don't have a heart," Clint sighed. "You get a Christmas tree!"  
"Be happy with you star," Natasha replied serenely.

Clint shut up. Wisely.

There was a rush a rush to the stove, only to discover that in the craziness, the timer had run out and it had to be reset. Then, they realized that the sheets hadn't been buttered. Rescuing their now mangled cookies back from the cookie sheets to allow Pepper to spray them down with some spray can, the Avengers waited. Bruce poked at his torn angel. Thor eyed his mangled candy cane.

"I am making mine again," Thor said finally. "If Loki were to see this, he would mock my efforts, Jane. Although this is a womanish duty, I would rather be known to give my best effort no matter what –"

Jane smacked Thor's arm, with a raised eyebrow. Noticing Natasha and Pepper's shared looks. Pepper turned around again to double-check the time and temperature of the oven and then to add just another layer of spray on butter just for love.

"Womanish duty?" she asked archly. "Have you seen me baking or doing stuff like that?"  
"Not usually..." Thor said.  
"Or cooking huge meals?"  
"Not particularly..."  
"Or sitting down with my huge household at the foot of my family table?"  
"Well, no..." Thor replied uneasily.

_Did I say something wrong... again?_

"Well, then, baking isn't womanish. Or I am not a woman."  
"Ahhh..." Thor blinked. "Jane. I did not mean that –" He paused at the sight of a huge print of flour on his shirt sleeve. "Ah!" He patted at it. More stuck on. "Jane!"  
"It'll come off! Don't be a baby," she rolled her eyes. "Oh!"

He had flicked flour at her. By the time, Pepper turned around from finishing her last minute touches to the oven and trays (and this was a mere half a minute), the entire group was caught up in a small food war. When two of Clint's stars were crushed, World War Three broke out.

That's when Loki walked in.

At the sight of him standing there, hands at his side, dark-hair ruffled and Asgardian garb looking a little more dirty and smudgy than usual, everyone froze. His green eyes widened at the sight of Jane's hand now lightly resting on Thor's forehead (Thor had bent down to pick up some of his cookie dough which had fallen on the floor), flour raining down past his nose and whitened cheeks into his golden beard. Bruce's glasses were covered in flour, but he was grinning a quiet smile as he finished rolling Clint's last few stars back up into a ball. Natasha and Clint had their hands on all the wrong places and Tony was struggling out of a partial headlock by Steve.

Swivelling around, Loki tried to walk away, shoulders quivering, but Thor's hand stopped him.

"Lok! You should join us – this is yet another –"  
"Is he OK?" Steve asked as Loki's shoulders hunched inward.  
"Maybe he's going to be sick?"  
"He's not seizing again is he?" Bruce stepped forward, pulling his glasses off and trying to wipe them free of flour in vain.

The God of Mischief looked like he was either undergoing some kind of seizure again – that or some kind of flashback had brought back to the surface some mysterious inner turmoil.

Something cracked the silence then. Something utterly foreign. Something alien. Something unheard of. Something suspiciously like a snort and then a short sharp sound and then a gurgle and then something choking and then – Loki turned, eyes swimming with tears, eyes contorted with mirth. It wasn't entirely without bitterness. Not entirely without mockery, but the laughter that spilled out then was entirely Loki. Hand on his belly, he bent over then, trying to gasp out something.

"Loki. Are you ill?" Thor fell silent as Loki burst out into a high laughter, almost crying. Glancing at Bruce and Jane helplessly, Thor wondered if he should join in and laugh as well, or draw his brother in for an embrace. _It is always difficult to tell with Loki_, he sighed.  
"Idiots... Foo-Fools. Dunderhe-heads. Imbeciles." Loki managed to force out, pulling away from Thor. "These are the great Avengers who defeated the God of Mischief and Chaos? Ahhh... br – Thor, how can something so insignificant be so mind-numbingly crushing and uplifting at the same time? Yet another paradox to consider." Loki managed to straighten, turning back to the door which opened into the hallway. "Your senseless mischief wearies me. I can already feel your insanity -" He shook his head slowly, refusing to finish that thought.

"You're just a sore loser," Tony blurted out, tossing a handful of flour Loki's way.  
"Don't pick on him, Tony," Steve said. "He can't throw back, can he?"  
"He was throwing snowballs fine last I checked," Clint snorted.  
"It is no matter," Loki said dismissively, not willing to admit what he had to undergo for such a simple pleasure. He would not whine and beg like a miserable thrall. He was Loki and stood alone. "Let me know when our food arrives."  
"The delivery man has arrived, Sir," JARVIS intoned from somewhere in the ceiling.  
"Oh no," Pepper sighed. "We look like..."  
"No problemo. Already got the solution. JARVIS let the guy know we're sending someone down pronto. Uhhh... Loki. Here's some cash," Tony handed over a wad of bills. "You go down and talk to the guy – and give him a tip. It's Christmas after all. You can keep the rest for yourself if you want. Or throw it away. 'Cause that's what I can do. I'm Tony Stark."

Loki stared at the outstretched money before taking it and stowing it away carefully in a pocket.

"I shall return the proper remainder and receipt," he hissed. "I am in no need of charity offerings, Stark," he added, glaring at everyone before stalking out.  
"Be nice to the guy!" Tony called after him. "And me! You know – don't bite the hand that feeds and all that!"

The only response was an unintelligible string of Asgardian, which Thor just shook his head over. With Loki gone to deal with their supper, the rest of them, hurriedly rolled out what dough they could salvage, put aforementioned cookies onto the tray and shoved them into the oven, leaving the cookies in JARVIS's tender care so they could wash up a bit before dinner. When everyone emerged from their various guest rooms, feeling a bit more refreshed, less butter-y and flour-y, they flocked to the oven straight away to peer inside. The cookies looked nice and golden brown.

"JARVIS sure knows how to bake'em," Tony said contentedly as Pepper took out the cookies and left them out to cool.  
"It is mind-boggling to imagine that a bodiless entity may be a better baker than you," Loki sniffed, setting down a stack of flat colourfully decorated boxes, a bag of pop cans and five smaller boxes that smelled tantalizing of chicken.  
"I don't see you successfully doing anything like making cookies," pointed out Pepper severely as she wiped off the counter.  
"I was working on better things," Loki replied, eyeing the boxes. "What Midgardian fare am I to be tortured with next?"  
"No reason to get overly dramatic, brother," Thor sighed, drawing Loki into the seat next to him. "It is called pizza. A veritable delight which would satisfy even Volstagg."  
"That hardly recommends it," was Loki's sour response.

He took his five slices with aplomb, however, and began to wolf them down in rapid succession. Somehow, the slices, ten chicken wings and two pop cans of Root Beer had disappeared down his throat. It was as bad as watching Thor – but worse because Thor looked like he ate a ton every moment of his life. Loki, on the other hand, was obviously making up for a dangerous lack of food in the past few months or years... _Or decades_, Tony guessed. _Or hundreds of years_.

When everyone was finished, the boxes stashed away in recycling with the cans, when the counter was cleared, Pepper and Jane disappeared only to reappear with a box of scissors and white paper in their hand. Loki sighed. _Here we go again._

"Snowflakes," Jane smiled. "We'll all make one snowflake and put it up on the windows for decoration."  
"I remember those!" Steve's blue eyes lit up.  
"And that's why we call you Miracle Man," Tony smirked. "Well, not Miracle Man, for real – but we should. If you get tired of the spangles and the, uh, non-gay corset, we could come up with something appropriate to celebrate your ability to remember inconsequential details – what – I have to make one too? C'mon, Pepper!"  
"You can make a suit, you can make a snowflake."  
"If that was the case," Tony replied. "I'd be able to bake too."  
"You could. In a manner of speaking. Now. This is how you fold it."

Loki found himself eyeing Natasha's gun, wondering if he could evade her if he made a break for it now. Probably not. She would probably be mowing him down to get herself out the door. Bruce didn't look any more excited either. _Well, if I must be involved in such childish activities, I will at least excel at it_, he told himself determinedly as Thor boasted to Jane what his snowflake would be like.

Ten minutes later, Thor unfolded his cut flake to find that a few of the points were missing and that it looked more square than hexagonical. Jane's snowflake, of course, was perfect. He said so. Ignoring Loki gagging on his right and mumbling about 'fulsome blathering'. Loki was having problems. Of course.

_That is my life, is it not? My lot in life – to struggle even with doing right. Even when my intentions are pure, or rather, more pure than usual, things never end up the way they should..._ He eyed his rumpled snowflake and sighed. _These blades are duller than the cook's pudding. If I had my – Thor's – gift knives here, it wouldn't be a problem. I'll sooner cut the paper with my fingers than with this instrument._

"Having problems with the kiddy scissors?" quipped Clint.  
"Pardon?" Loki's eyes narrowed.  
Bruce sighed. "Clint... You did not."

Which meant, of course, that Clint had.

"What?" Clint retorted. "We don't want him to hurt himself. So I gave him a set of safety scissors."  
"Have my scissors, brother," Thor said, getting up to put up his rather mutilated snowflake by Jane's. "They are sharp."  
"Loki. I am Loki. Not your brother!" grumbled Loki to himself, grabbing Thor's scissors and jabbing at his paper, imagining that he was cutting his brother's heart apart. Or Clint's hands. Or something.

The paper gave easily underneath the larger shears and within minutes he was unfolding his own snowflake. _It was not perfect like Jane's but it was close_, he thought. He started another. And another.

"Yeah." Natasha said, after a moment. "I don't sense competition at all when it comes to Loki."  
"I know, understand and utilize sarcasm, Lady Natasha," Loki growled without looking up. "I merely wish to do the thing right, correctly and perfectly – even if it is foolishness."  
"Huh," the red-haired assassin shrugged. "That's not the Loki I saw last opening up a portal – and failing. Lucky us."

Silence fell as Loki froze. Eyes emptying alarmingly as memory overwhelmed him. The thick stench of blood. The burn of weapon punching him through a hard concrete wall. And a dying man's perceptive glimpse...

_You lack conviction._

The large metal scissors in his hands quivered, clipped closed suddenly, halfing the flake in two brutally and he rose jerkily, his arm casually – gracefully – rising to fling the scissors at her. Missing by a generous three inches but imbedding itself in Tony's kitchen wall with unexpected force. Loki, gritting back on the pain racing through his arm and into his chest, staggered out into the hallway and, upon reaching his room, slammed and locked the door shut in order to survive his pain alone.

"Well. That was. Great. Great," Pepper sighed.  
"Let him be," Jane placed a hand on Thor's arm. "You can go to him a little later when he's more calm and less likely to throw... scissors."  
"He has a mean toss, gotta say," Tony tried to pry the scissors out of the wall and failed. "I wouldn't want that buried in my... well, in my body anywhere. That'd be a permanent fixture. I would think. For a while anyways. Unless it passed right through you. Which could've happened – he's got a kind of wirey strength, doesn't it?"

Looking at Loki's handiwork appraisingly, Natasha found herself agreeing.

-0-0-0-

Later on that night, Clint and Natasha sat back against their headboard, catching their breath after some well-deserved personal R&R time – with each other. When they lay there, shoulder to shoulder, nothing was said for a moment, until Clint stirred and took Natasha's hand in his.

"You kinda lost it there for a second," he noted.  
"Just a little. Not as bad as you."  
"Yeah. But I have my reasons –"  
"I had to recalibrate a friend, a partner, a lover... How do you think I felt?"  
"Sometimes," Clint admitted. "I don't know. But, I suddenly feel very much... cared for."  
"You finally start realizing that now?" Natasha turned to look at him, incredulously. "Men."  
"Well, no..." Pause. "You know what I meant."  
"Hm."

Silence.

"I don't know what to get him for a gift. Hot chocolate packets. He loves hot chocolate packets. Maybe a food basket."  
"Hm. Not a bad idea. I'd put money in for that. As a 'sorry for getting under your skin', kind of thing."  
"You aren't sorry," Clint had to point out.  
"Well, no. But I'm good at lying."  
"Ah. Right." Pause. "Think he'll fall for it? As the God of Lies? Well, ex-God of Lies."  
"No. He'll probably think it's poisoned."  
"Think he'd still eat it even if he knew we poisoned it?"  
"How susceptible are Asgardians to poison?" Natasha wondered.  
"This is getting dangerous," Clint said seriously. "We shouldn't want him to suffer all the time."  
"Just most."  
"Yeah. Most. You think throwing snowballs hurt him?"  
"It's hard to tell," Natasha mused. "He hides his pain well. Too well."  
"I wonder if he would suffer poisoning in silence though."  
"Uh, Clint."  
"Yeah?"  
"That was just a joke, right?"  
"Yeah..."  
""Kay. Just checking. But a nice food package would be good. Hot chocolate. Soup. Tins. Or food stamps."  
"Food stamps. Even better. With a food basket. Equals humiliation for our local bum of an ex-God."  
"We could label it 'To: Thor's Little Brother', and see if he accepts it," mused Natasha. "It'd be an interesting psychological test, if nothing else."  
"See how desperate he is." Clint grinned. "I kind of like him this way. He's more... I can deal with him a bit better now."  
"I know," Natasha drew him close for another kiss. "And I'm proud."

Sometimes you need to be content with the small things.

* * *

**Well, not the ending that some would like, but don't see it as a bad thing. Really! Clint and Natasha are dealing with things their own way. It's not perfect, but at least they aren't gutting Loki. Yeah, it's petty. But people are petty. End of story.**

**Angst OST 101... John Murphy's soundtrack for "Sunshine". SO BIZARRE and yet GORGEOUS at the same time. Particularly "Kanada's Death"- both Part 1 and Part 2. (The JPNZ dude was soooo awesome! *tear* Well, OK. Also Chris Evans' and Cillian Murphy's characters too. Did anyone feel the urge to huggle Cillian Murphy? His cute little ponytail and underfed body...) And the last two tracks: "The Surface of the Sun" and "All to Heaven"... So amazingly gut-wrenching and startling and crazy. Really good for any kind of scene where you want horrible things to happen to your character. **

**Yep. So up next is Gingerbread Houses. And more brother competition - sort of. **

***Clint's Knock Knock Joke came from Emily Ballance's 41 Knock-Knock Jokes.**


	28. Bitter-Sweetness

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Waffles**: Yes. I had to. It was just too funny! Thanks for the reviews and stuff! Hope you enjoy this update! - KI

**Well, for the next 2 weeks, I've got English Winter Camp. 6 days a week. It's not the whole day – but enough socialization to wear me out. (Adding to my current tutoring clients.) For my peace of mind and sanity, I'm going to be updating next on my Wednesday. :) 2 nights from now. Hope this OK!**

**Hm... anything else... Downloaded "The Hollow Crown"... Tom Hiddleston. (sigh) This guy is going to break my heart.  
**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 28  
Bitter-Sweetness

"It's a candy can Christmas,  
sweet as it can be..."  
("Candy Cane Christmas" - sung by Darius Rucker)

_You lack conviction._

The words had replayed in his head throughout the countless centuries that had passed as Loki fell into the darkness of his mind and his first cell on Asgard (before the eleventh shift of guards, before them, before it all started). Not on Svartalheim. Svartalheim had been a place of pursuit – a seemingly endless chase through the desolate wastes of the realm. _Not that Svartalheim is merely wasteland_, Loki reminded himself. It was difficult to keep it all objective. _But it will be a long time before I can return there with a peaceable mind. _

You lack conviction.

The Son of Coul. _Coulson. That was the name. _Thor had mentioned it during Loki's audience and the name had seared into his memory like a brand. In those moments where he had shared Barton's thoughts, he had learned about the quiet, upright warrior who had wielded a gun for his country's sake. No different than Loki. _No. Very different._

_You lack conviction._

It still rankled. _Because it is true_, Loki slid down the door of his bedroom to rest, knees drawn up, head buried in his arms, trying to breath through the waves of pain as it slowly ebbed from his body. Scissors in the wall. And something old and ancient and long forgotten –_ regret? yes, regret_ – followed hard. Acting before thinking. Unable to control – to control the chaos which never seemed to be able to leave. _Always primed to fail. I lacked conviction. That was a battle I had not meant to win – and despite my intentions, whether for good or for ill (or for something in-between, that was Loki's true domain), lives had been spent for a feint, for a mad play, for a dash to freedom, for love of the game... _

_You lack conviction._

Now all that was left, years later, was nothing but a shell, too tired and spent to even feel regret. Long forgotten now. Regret had since then been burned out of his bones and aching flesh on the plains of Sheherad. During those dark nights, he had begged forgiveness to the stars. His brother. His mother. Earth. And in desperation, his father.

So he sat there. There, _not Sheherad on Svartalheim. No. Stark Tower. _He huddled behind his door, hoping to be left well alone, his flickering rage now spent as fatigue swamped him. After rage, there was shame, after shame, there was guilt, after guilt, there was regret, after regret, there was repentance. And then... Nothing. _What did you expect?_ He wondered. But another part of him answered swiftly. _Absolution. Forgiveness. Something. Anything but the return to nothing. It is all full circle now and means little in the end – and I appear to have been left with nothing. But..._

_But..._

There was Thor. The not-brother who he hated. _But not really. The not-brother who he (not really) hated._ And there was the Super Soldier. Loki wanted to tear him from limb to limb – but then he remembered Steve's clear blue eyes. Quiet and (quietly) righteous, but also willing to gift the ex-God of Mischief a second chance. _An honest fool. A kind fool._ Loki would spare him, even though the man seemed to be bent on making him feel ridiculous at times.

And the Man of Iron. The short man who prided himself on intelligence, resourcefulness and inventiveness above all. A curiosity which Loki realized was something connecting them together. A quick wit and a vitality which enlivened the ex-God of Mischief. A talent for obfuscation. The ex-God of Lies knew now to watch his step. _No. Even more importantly, the Man of Iron had not pitied him. Never pitied him._ He had always met Loki face to face and – _he saw me venture down a road I could not pull myself from_, Loki had to admit. _He offered me a home. _

And there was the Beast. That was more complicated. Looking at the Son of Banner, Loki felt a jumble of things. Anger. Rage. A desire to repay the scientist for the humiliating defeat he had suffered at his hands – to be thrown about so easily, like a child's toy. Underneath the anger lay fear. Fear which held Loki from lashing out at the soft-spoken man. Fear had forced him to listen to him. Fear bred something grudgingly then. _Respect and..._ (that time in the hall's bathroom, in an alleyway and sitting on the haybales)... _gratitude. _

The two others. The Woman and the Archer. Those were complicated. He hated their smirks, their quips, their knowing eyes and the constant vigilance. Expecting him to fail, to make a mistake, to cross the line. _And can I blame them? Indeed, if I stood in their shoes, would I not __tear such a creatures as myself apart never more to threaten humanity? In the end, I cannot fault their logic and, in the end, their very vigilance and distrust makes them less the fools than I._

_I... I... whose dreams are thwarted again and again._ Loki clenched his fist and ground his teeth as he sat in his bedroom in the falling dusk, ignoring Thor's tentative knock and the sounds of discussion outside. Ignored the fading footsteps and quick chatter. _In the end, I find myself unable to raise my hand against the very mortals whom I had committed myself to defeat. _

_You lack conviction._

_Perhaps I need to find a new purpose._

_You lack conviction._

An insidious thought.

_Maybe this is a blessing?_

-0-0-0-

"So the cookie thing didn't go so well," sighed Pepper later on that night as she and Tony sat together, lamps lit on either side of their bed on the matching night tables as they finished up last minute email checks. Pepper was checking her schedule, making sure that Tony had a few worthwhile events to attend for the Christmas season – and that they wouldn't end up double booked with what she had planned to cover during their Operation Make Loki Like Christmas.

"No shit Sherlock," mumbled Tony, drawing his eyes away slowly from a diagram which Bruce had sent him earlier in the evening. "If the end of the world depended upon our ability to make sugar cookies, it would be screwed. Let's keep that secret to ourselves, shall we? We don't want Dr. Doom or any of those other super villains to figure that one out."  
"Ha. Ha. Tony."  
"Well, OK. So it failed. We can try something else."  
"I'm thinking gingerbread houses."  
"That'd be good. Candy is good. Thor will be all over that. Although I don't know how I feel about feeding sugar to our ragtag band. And aren't gingerbread houses more complicated than sugar cookies? You know how to make them?"  
"No. But there's a gingerbread house workshop we could attend."  
"You want the Avengers to attend a gingerbread house workshop."  
"With Loki."  
"Avengers plus one," Tony's eyes drifted back to the screen. "He's going to hate it."  
"Loki?" Pepper shifted a little as she laid aside her tablet and turned to watch Tony put the finishing touches to a new robot design. At least, it looked like a robot. You never knew with Tony... "He's been doing OK so far."  
"Aside from the, you know, seizures and nearly tearing Santa from limb to limb and his drama queen wishlist rant and setting Clint off – on himself, no less – that guy has a talent for trouble. It's like it's hard-wired into his DNA."  
"It's hardly all his fault," protested Pepper.  
"So you've joined the Loki Fan Club?" smirked Tony. "Should I be jealous?"  
"Please, we are not going there."  
"I think I just did."  
"Less than twelve percent, I promise."  
"We are not doing the percent thing," Tony said. "I may be a mathematical genius, but I always come away feeling like I missed out on the equation –"

Pepper leaned in for a kiss, Tony suddenly realized that his hands were too full of tablets and styluses. Unceremoniously shoving the tech onto his night table, Tony turned to face Pepper and leaning forward, drew her into a long kiss which left the both of them rather breathless.

"You're mine, a hundred and ten percent," Tony said.  
"Of course. But I'm a woman. I multitask. I can also worry a little."  
"Loki... what I said about trouble being hard-wired into his DNA," Tony sighed. "That's true, Pepper. It's part of the cycle. There's Loki and Thor and Loki and Thor and Loki and Thor – and then, if you believe in mystical mumbo-jumbo, there's Ragnarok. It's kinda... sad."  
"So there's no way out for him," Pepper said softly. "Now, I feel depressed."  
"Well, I don't hold by that mystical mumbo-jumbo. Way I see it, the kid has to forge out on his own. Carve out his own destiny. And we just need to make sure that Barton doesn't kill him before that happens."  
"And that we enjoy an awesome Christmas this year around," Pepper smiled. "Loki aside, it's been amazing so far, I think."  
"Knock on wood," Tony agreed, drawing her in for another kiss.

-0-0-0-

"Thor," Loki said with a deep, put upon, 'my-brother-is-going-to-be-the-death' of me sigh. "Thor. That is not going to – here. Let me."

His slender hands batting away Thor's larger ones, Loki carefully manoeuvred the two pieces of hard gingerbread so that they steepled above the small house they had erected. The roof, the final piece for their creation. If Thor's meaty fists didn't smash the thing before it was decorated.

Jane and Pepper were darting around, taking pictures and cheering the teams onward. Loki and Thor. Bruce and Tony. Clint and Steve. (Natasha had escaped after taking another day-long mission for SHIELD.) Each pair were grouped around a table, surrounded with small bowls of candy, gingerbread pieces and icing sugar bags. Bruce and Tony, applying their genius minds, had already set the entire thing up and were busy applying the candy randomly to the house.

"The important thing is that it has all the candy that we bought with the package," Tony had declared.

Bruce had equably agreed.

Steve and Clint worked carefully. Their roof was sliding on slowly but surely and Clint was already making plans for super modern designs so that their gingerbread house would look "cool". Steve had been rather hoping to achieve a more traditional look, but had agreed to Clint's request. _It's Christmas after all_, he thought. _What's important is that we are enjoying ourselves and not at each others' throats. _

Here, his gaze slipped to Loki and Thor who were yelling at each other in their native tongue. Loki spoke quickly and impatiently, tones clipped and voice slightly jeering. Obviously casting a slur at Thor, going by Thor's annoyed look. No doubt something to the effect that Thor was no more intelligent than an ox or some such thing.

When they finally managed to set the roof on, Loki stood with a smile and said, "See. Just take it slowly. You always did have a bad habit of just rushing in and never thinking things through."

"And if you had your way," Thor said. "We would be sitting here all day."  
"Well. At least the finished article would be an object of perfection," Loki sniffed.  
"'Object of perfection'!"Thor blinked. "We do not even know what a house of gingerbread should be, Loki. Your egotism has made a surprising recovery."  
"Egotism? Ha! As if you can talk about egotism!" snarled Loki, jamming an extra piece of gingerbread a little too hard into Thor's hand. It crumbled uselessly against his brother's skin and his still-stronger-than-mortal fingers. That didn't stop the sharp lancing pain from springing up from his fingertips to his right elbow. He cursed sharply and drew back, cradling his arm.  
"Well thought out," Thor cuffed Loki sharply. "Sit down and take a rest while I secure the roof of our pastry dwelling, little brother."  
"I do not need a rest, Thor!" Loki added. "And I am not your brother. Nor am I little!"

Thor sighed and gave Loki a 'look'. "Just sit, Loki."

Thor carefully added the icing and after a bit of thought added some around the bottom of the house. Loki watched his brother like a hawk while casting his eye over the sample gingerbread house which sat to the side of the front of the room. His eyes drifted back to his brother. Thor appeared to be trying to spread the icing over the entire board which the house rested upon. Jumping to his feet, Loki snatched the icing bag from his brother's hands. Or tried to.

"Brother!" Thor said. "Do not touch my arm, lest my aim be –"  
"Let go, Thor," hissed Loki. "What are you doing?"  
"Adding snow!"  
"It looks nothing like the traditional –"  
"Loki, it is our house, we can decorate it however we please!" Thor finished adding 'the show' and began to pick up little red berries.  
"What – what are you doing?" Loki scurried over rescuing them. "These go in front of the door down the walkway."  
"Which walkway?"  
"The walkway you covered in snow, you dolt!"  
"Loki! We don't need to –"  
"It will be perfect! Unless," Loki whirled around. "You wish me to toss everything on randomly. More fitting for the God of Chaos of the olden times, I suppose. Then what would Mother think?"  
"Mother?" Thor blinked.  
"I am certain that at the most inopportune moment your..." A moue formed on Loki's lips as he tried to formulate something halfway polite about Jane Foster (deep, deep, down, he had to admit that she was definitely intelligent and more than a match for his bro – Thor – for Thor, but he'd rather die than admit that). "Woman. Your woman will pull out her infernal camera and take a picture for Mother. And it will be a wreck!"  
"Loki... You know Mother loves anything we make, no matter what expertise we may put into our effort. She will love it because we made it."  
"But it should still look better than theirs," Loki added, eyeing Bruce and Tony's house which looked like it had been blanketed in candy from the front to the back.  
"Brother, you need not..." Thor clasped Loki's thin shoulder. His thought petered off as he frowned. "You are still too thin."

Loki sagged in disbelief.

"Now we are discussing my dietary habits?"  
"You used to be more quick-witted than this," Thor frowned. "I fear the Pit has wrought some strange change in you, Loki."  
"Yes, yes, yes," Loki nearly broke the bowl in his hands. He set it down quickly and clenched his fists – unclenched – clenched – unclenched them, trying to battle down the exhausting rage which was threatening to swamp him. "The Pit. It was those last few hundred, was it? Not the, ah, eight hundred of torture beforehand?"

It was spiralling out of control again. Chaos in all the wrong places. _You can no longer control yourselves – yourself – And the last time you failed, you ended up – in the Abyss – under the swift, merciless Asgardian jusice. Both of which you so justly deserved. Even this..._

"Loki Silvertongue. Loki Wordsmith. Loki the God of Lies and Chaos and Mischief. Slow-witted. Moronic. A dull creature no better than the rest of the puling mortals in this Realm, Thor," Loki replied, eyes bright. "Or were you not listening to our _dear Father's_ edict? Did it not bear some kind of resemblance to your own banishment. Except... your own three day adventure did happen a thousand years or so ago, so perhaps I can forgive a slight lapse in memory."  
"Now you behave the child," Thor frowned, folding his arms. "I well remember the day. Mother cried when you were dragged to the Sewing."

"Sewing?" Tony's head rose.

Yes, he had been eavesdropping shamelessly. So had Bruce. And Clint. And Steve. And the rest of the room. There was nothing like Norse family and political relationships for drama and intrigue. It was better than Saturday night cable.

"Somehow, I don't think he meant he joined the Martha Stewart club," Bruce mumbled.  
"Good one," Tony grinned. "Yeah. Hey, Thor. Enlighten us about this sewing thing. Did Loki have to take some sort of Home Ec class? I heard that Loki can do the shapey-shifty thing – so I guess womanly duties are – oh, right. No. He's – OK..." Tony caught sight of Loki's livid expression. "I'll... go back to adding these candy canes right here. Doesn't it look, nice, Bruce? At this rate, we can nip over to Starbucks and back. Hey, Clint, ten bucks says that we'll be back and they still won't have finished by then."  
"Well, you know how family crap always hits the fan during the season," snorted Clint from his table. "So, no bet there."

"Not. A. Single. Word," whispered Loki hoarsely, turning his back (now rigid with tension) on the others to fix a look on Thor. Whatever crossed his face caused the God of Thunder to pause.  
"A story for another time, perhaps," Thor sighed. "Loki. We must order more pizza for you tonight. And chicken. And more vegetables."  
"I am not hungry."  
"You lie."  
"News flash," Clint had to interject as he passed by with another candy cane. "God of Lies."  
"Not a god anymore," Steve pointed out quietly. "Not really."  
"Still a liar though."  
"Let's just stay focused on our house," Steve sighed.  
"Sure, sure."

"Let us strike a bargain then, Loki. I will allow you to direct how this house will look and you will eat a large fill for our supper tonight."  
"Very well..." Loki ground out, ungraciously. "If you must allow me to win all the time, I will hardly gainsay you. Now. I will apply this... icing... to the edges of the roof. You lay these long red... I know not what to call these. But lay these along the edge..."

Within minutes the two brothers focused on the house. Loki decorating the edges with the last of the icing while Thor followed behind with licorice. For a while, there was silence, amicable bickering and elbowing for dominance over pieces of candy. Two other arguments erupted on where to place the candy cane, until Pepper found a spare and Loki was able to place his where he had originally wanted, Thor in the corner he believed to be more bare. Yellow, red, blue, green, black candy, all diversely shaped, were carefully placed, denoting the fence, the garden, the "mail box" and the house decorations.

"I still believe that you would have taken more pride in originality," Thor grumbled as his brother eyed the sample gingerbread house for the umpteenth time. "You never enjoyed following the status quo. Not before."  
"Yes. And that went so well," Loki snapped back caustically.  
"You just went too extreme, Loki. This is merely decorating a house. Hardly Realm shaking."  
"He's got issues, Point Break," Tony brushed past, pulling on his coat. "It's called OCD. Can happen to the best of us broken, poor, mewling mortals. Want a coffee? Yeah. The usual, I bet. Rudolph. Tea? Something hale? Or wait, no, we get the fun of force feeding you later. How about a pre-dinner snack? Want me to get you a cake pop? You know you want one."

Loki's reply was all teeth and snarl as Thor's eyebrows rose. There was something oddly embarrassed and defensive about Loki. _Almost a default setting these days_, grinned Tony.

"Yesterday, while you were on that date with Jane," the short inventor-genius explained. "Pepper took Loki out to Starbucks for the first time. She's got photo evidence of Loki plastering himself to the cake display case after he discovered the joys of cake pops."  
"May I try one?" Thor asked, face lit with boyish excitement.  
"Sure –"  
"They are mine," Loki said, fists clenching again.  
"I'm sure they have a ton of them," sighed Tony, suddenly having a vision of two children having a cat fight over who had the bigger slice of cake. "Cake pops for the Odinsons."  
"I am not an Odinson."  
"Oh. OK. No cake pops for you, then."

Killing Tony with the sharp edge of the gingerbread house flooring was suddenly a very real reality. Perhaps in another universe or life, Loki was no doubt tortured out of his mind after achieving his dastardly aim. However, this was not the time. Through sheer will, Loki managed to pry his hands away from the dangerously creaking table. Tony grinned even more widely. Loki was learning.

"OK. Fine. Cake pops for the Odinsons. What's the magic word?"  
"Thank you," Loki bit out.  
"Many thanks," Thor added quickly. "Come, Loki. We must finish our most perfect creation."  
"This is a perfect creation?" Loki sniffed. "Hardly. This is a moronic, childish activity and a complete waste of time. If I had magic," he added with a grumble. "This would be done in a matter of minutes."  
"If I got a penny for every time you said 'If I had magic'," Clint grumbled back, "Tony wouldn't be the only billionaire around here."  
"Oooo... Good one, Clint." Tony chuckled. "Good one."

Loki's shoulders tensed up again and he nearly broke in the roof of their gingerbread house. With a sharp look at his friends and then his brother, Thor stayed Loki's hand to retrieve the remaining candy. With a sigh, the ex-God of Chaos subsided to a chair, content to watch his brother for a short time. Clint was following the other two men out the door while Steve helped the women and the store clerk to carefully box the gingerbread houses. They were fragile things until they set in the fridge and would need careful transportation home.

In the quiet, watching Thor carefully add the orange, red and purple soft candy (jubejubes) along the back, Loki tried to relax again. Ever since the snowflake incident, the day before yesterday, Loki had hid in his room, battling himself. Trying to make sense of it all. Inside, his gut churned and for a moment, he felt nauseous, but his belly was too empty.

"You are right," he finally admitted softly. Then paused, eyes wide as he realized what had slipped out unbidden.

Thor said nothing, just lifted his eyes, hand pausing, to take note of Loki. Loki returned Thor's gaze – for all of ten seconds – before shifting his glance down to his feet.

"I am not the same. I thought I told you so before. Why do we have these conversations over and over again?"  
"I have not forgotten," Thor shook his head. "I just want to... make certain of the man before me. This person who no longer finds joy in the uncertainty of life. Who craves order. Subjugation, even. And yet, whose memory is so raw and who has sustained so much hurt, he can only react in anger out of fear. Attempting to hide who and what he really is."  
"Waxing rhetorical, Thor? Is that not my domain? But then, I am not the person who I was before, according to you. Who am I now, Thor?" asked Loki.  
"Other than my little brother?" Thor smiled quickly at Loki's sour face. "Well, I have a guess but I would rather you find out on your own. Do you wish to sprinkle these sprinkles on the roof? I think your hand is steadier."

Loki rose and joined him, putting on the final touches before they drew back. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't as bad as Bruce and Tony's monstrosity either. Thor had snuck in a few changes here and there. When Jane took a photo, Loki struggled with a sudden desire to wipe it out and destroy his own work, but then he turned the board carefully and discovered that in the "backyard", Thor had used small round gravel candy to write 'Thor' and 'Loki' on the snow.

_Sentimental hogwash_, Loki thought. But a small, quiet smile lit his face.

* * *

**HAHAHAHA! He's softening up. Sort of. (It's gotta happen. Slowly though... Slowly...)**

**UPCOMING Chapters hold... Christmas Carolling. Charity work. Playing hockey. Delivering a baby. Nativity Scene.  
**

**Also. Remember... I'm on tumblr... **  
**"suitsforall"**  
**"mischiefmakerloki"**  
**"dappled-things"**

**ANGST OST 101 continued... "Tuck Everlasting" by William Ross. OK. So the movie was kinda lame. But there were 3 good things about it. #1: Music box music is so haunting and creepy. Totally FTW. #2: "Miles Song". CELLOS ARE SEXY! Cellos with flashbacks = aural orgasm. #3: William Hurt's line: "Do not fear death, fear only the unlived life." It's totally my email signature. All the time.**

**In other news, I might be able to visit Beijing in 2 weeks. Which might put a crimp in my writing. For 4 days. I'm not too excited, but I need to renew my passport. UGH. Beijing during Chunjie (Spring Festival) = DEATH. Why am I a masochist?**


	29. All The King's Horses

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**OK. MONSTER UPDATE! 6,000 words. AHHKKK! It's the Messiah's fault! No really. It is. **

**In other news. ESL Winter Camp going OK. Next time I update will most likely be Saturday night. **

**Hope you enjoy this new update! Chapter 29 - AKA In which Steve is a Boss and Homeless People Rock!**

**Give me a shout!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 29  
All the King's Horses

"Wandering wisemen  
What did you bring to his bed  
Shapeless surprises  
Incense to bring to the dead  
Nothing is wrong, it's what she did  
All the kings horns and kings men  
Nothing is wrong its what she did  
All the kings horns and kings men"  
("All the King's Horns" - sung by Sufjan Stevens)

_There is something wrong here_, Steve thought as he watched Pepper and the clerk finally wrap up Loki's and Thor's gingerbread house (now properly photographed 'for Mother'). It was a very, very good first attempt. The licorice along the eaves may not have been straight, the sheer amount of icing would make it impossible for it to be dismantled and eaten, and every single piece of candy allotted to the gingerbread house package had been used (much to Loki's horror). But it was a merry looking house, not exactly a replica of the model in the middle of the room, having its own distinctive Asgardian flavour. You could see Thor's generosity and Loki's sense of aesthetics. _A very Odinsson gingerbread house._

It had been a good evening, for the most part. No quarrelling. No serious Loki-baiting on Tony's part. That had seemed to have ended with the snowball fight. Steve's eyes rested on Loki who stood a little apart from the crowd in Starbucks, eyeing everyone with disfavour, hand clutching his cake pop. The chocolate sprinkled treat hadn't been touched yet – but it was being eyed with increasing desire.

_Loki likes sweet things. He's a stragetist, thinking through long-term options. He's a survivor. He's intelligent and resourceful. He's mildly suicidal. Definitely depressed and desperate. He's human, just like us._ Steve thought.

His gaze drifted out the window to where a small park lay across the street. Like many, it had a bunch of Santa and reindeer set up complete with elves and baggage. And a Nativity. _The __Nativity._ He drew closer to the window and peered out past the creeping frost and fog, his gaze dwelling on the plastic lit figures of Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus. _God come down to man._

_They call themselves gods_, Steve thought. _But I stand by what I said that night in the quinjet. That isn't what God looks like at all. Loki... Thor... Odin... God isn't a pawn. He isn't careless or thoughtless. He isn't a bad parent. We see them as immortals and incredible beings but we must never confuse that with the reality of what they are. Of who Loki is..._

The Super Soldier turned just in time to see Loki nibble at his cake pop – and then flinch as a camera flash went off in his face. The girls were oooh-ing and awwww-ing over the 'cuteness' – and Steve wondered if this would go in the increasingly thick album which would be sent to Loki and Thor's mother eventually. Frowning, the blonde super soldier made his way back over to the group of seated superheroes and dragged forward a seat for Loki and himself. After a moment, Loki sat down beside him.

"Put the camera away," Steve said mildly, but his eyes brooked no argument. "It's enough that we have all this mechanized, flashing, noisy stuff cluttering up Christmas time without having cameras and phones and things making it that much more... modernized and documented and... I don't know."  
"Remind me to make you a time machine," Tony snorted. "So you can go back to the Dark Ages and celebrate your Christmas – heck, the rest of your life in the traditional ways you know and love. If you aren't happy, at least we'll be free of your Debbie-downer vibes."  
"Tony," Pepper smacked Tony on the arm. "Stop it! Sorry, Steve. Tony just doesn't know when to stop."  
"That I can believe," muttered Loki.

Bruce set down two Starbucks cups down in front of Steve and Loki. Glancing upward inquiringly, Loki blinked before turning to Steve, green eyes watching the Soldier closely. Steve reached forward to the hot drink, sipped it and nodded.

"Thanks, Bruce. I owe you one."  
"No problem," replied the quiet scientist. "For my fellow hot chocolate lovers."  
"It's hot chocolate," Steve said to Loki.  
"I heard," was the caustic reply.  
"It's best drunk when hot."

Clutching his cake pop, Loki leaned forward and retrieved his drink. After a few minutes, he was relaxing against the chair as the drink slid down his throat. The group stayed there for an hour, chatting, talking, laughing. Sharing stories. Making fun of the most recent super villains. Parroting the most famous monologues. Avoiding the subject of portals and Chitauri and SHIELD and Asgard. Avoiding Loki.

Sitting there, on the edge of the circle, the dark-haired man at his side, Steve wondered if this was how Loki felt all the time. _Sitting on the outside. Always looking in._ It was something he could sympathize with as a man who was walking out of time, struggling to connect even years after waking.

_It's getting better,_ Steve thought._ But it's still lonely at times. You are isolated. Never able to __belong. Loki too. _

_Loki too._

-0-0-0-

"Loki."

No reply.

"Loki?"

Steve stepped forward to place a hand on Loki's shoulder. At his touch, Loki started a little, obviously coming out of a deep thought – something he was prone to doing more and more often these days._ Distressing. Who knows where he goes in there... and it's not like I can force him to talk about it... _

"Sorry," he said, trying to reassure the still silent dark-haired ex-God of Chaos. "I didn't mean to disturb you..."  
"And yet here you are," Loki replied coolly. Then added, mockingly, "How can I help you?"  
"I was wondering if you liked music."

Now he felt like an idiot. Loki's eyebrow rose and the corner of his lips quirked upward in an ironic smile.

"Music?"  
"Yes. This time of year – there are many kinds of concerts you can go to. I was wondering if you'd like to go tomorrow night with me to a classical concert."  
"Similar to the dancing wenches, I suppose. The Avengers have yet another tradition to fulfil? And they wish to watch me squirm through yet another gaudy monstrosity of a recital?"  
"Actually, it's just me." Steve sighed.  
"Really."  
"And there are no dancing wenches."  
"Ah. That explains it," laughed Loki a little unkindly.  
"Yes. Well. It's just singing. And an orchestra."  
"Orchestra."  
"A large group of musicians together."  
"I see."  
"Just you and me," Steve said. "I thought we'd pop by a steakhouse and then check out the Messiah at this local cathedral – Pepper found it. She wanted to come too but duty calls."  
"Son of Stark calls."  
"Yeah," laughed Steve. "Something like that."  
"Hm."  
"Or you don't."  
"Pardon?" Loki blinked.

Steve sighed.

"You don't have to come with me. It's just that I have two tickets. I wanted to offer one to you first. But, if you think music is a drag..."  
"So I may say no?" Loki asked, clearly not believing he heard Steve correctly.  
"Well, yeah," Steve sighed.

He eased up by Loki, shoulder to shoulder and looked out at the New York vista which spread out below their feet – the finest view of New York courtesy of Stark Towers. Some days, it felt like you were flying. He could see why Loki would be drawn to it.

"Listen. I know that – well, I can guess how hard this is. This whole thing is." Steve hesitated. "I can't – I can't pretend to fully know how you feel because I'm not you. And I didn't survive years of imprisonment and, uh, stuff. But I do know what it's like to stand on the outside and look in. And I, um, don't want to force you to join me. But I hope you will. If you like you music, if you want to come, I'll be at the elevators at four-thirty tomorrow. Steakhouse. Followed by The Messiah."

Loki did not reply. Steve turned away with a quiet sigh, chest feeling a bit tighter than he would like. _A workout is in order_, he thought. _I'm going to need to punch something tonight._

"Steve," Loki's soft voice broke the silence. A pause, then: "Thank you."

-0-0-0-

Stately. Like the court of Asgard in full regale. A deeply formal function, slow and stately and full of ritual. The music flowed from the stage, the stringed instrument evoking resonating memory with each fall of notes.

A miniscule pause, then it was if the air became light with the sound of rising, light notes. The pipes and other flute-like instruments were added. Energy, vigour and vitality entwined in the air – he could feel it resounding in the particles around him. A kind of magic, light-hearted and free like the bird rising on the wind, wings outstretched in the broad expanse of blue sky. And he soared with it, born by the sweet rush of melody.

A pause. Then, it began again. Slow, soft... A man's voice rising. He closed his eyes and listened.

_**Comfort ye my people. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem... and cry unto her that her warfare is accomplish'd... that her inquity is pardon'd...**_

_This, this is beauty_, he thought. _Perhaps not all of Midgard is lost if it can create something like this. Once again, this Realm has surprised me with its capacity... for beauty as well as meanness and violence._

_**Every valley shall be exalted...**_

_**And the glory of the Lord shall be exalted... and the flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken...**_

The music lightened. Darkened. A story began to take shape. A multitude of iniquity covered by a gift of forgiveness. It seemed impossible to Loki – and yet, there were people here who sat and listened and believed. Glancing to his right, Loki noticed that Steve's eyes held that flame of hope too. There was a smile on the Soldier's face. On any other day, Loki might have laughed at him, but this evening, surrounded by beauty, his belly full and knowing that his choice had not led him astray, Loki could not in all consciousness mock anything here.

There followed more music and more singing. Something about a virgin having a baby, which made him snort disbelievingly. But then the lyrics and music took hold of him again and would not let him go.

_**The people that walked in the darkness have seen a great light. **_

_**And they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.**_

The windowless cell in the dungeons of Asgard's palace. Svartalheim. The Pit. How long had he sat in the dark, with nothing but his memory and slowly forming regret? _How long had he sat there until the flames of his bitterness and rage had slowly cooled and then died?_ Then had come the day when the heavy lid had been shifted and five guards had descended to wrestle his unresisting self onto the lowered platform. When he was thrown on the floor far above the night world he had huddled in, Loki could not open his eyes even in the dim light of the dungeon – and when he managed to pry one eye open just a crack, it was to find that he had been forced to his feet before his father and brother. _Not-father. Not-brother. His bro – not-brother –_ Thor had started forward and drawn him into a hug with a cry that seemed more like a sob than a cry of joy. And the pressure – the light – the hands – he had lashed out.

Dragging his memory away from that day, Loki focused on the words now forming. Something about a baby being born and shepherds in the fields. And angels. _Angels? What were they?_ Loki had no idea. Still, it continued and he sat back, allowing the woman's voice to drift inward, easing the tension in his shoulders and back, thankful that Steve had not made any comment about Loki's tension.

_**Goodwill towards all men...**_

_Goodwill._ Loki glanced again at Steve. _Was this Steve's Christmas?_ It seemed rather different from the Christmas he had seen in New York. _Goodwill and peace and joy. No._ Definitely not the feeling of tension and pressure he had found in the third ring of Hel. _The marketplace._ Nor the superficial jollities of Stark's Son, Barton and Pepper. Or the empty actions of his brother who played at being a mortal. _This is different._

_**He shall lead his flock like a shepherd... and he shall gather the lambs with his arm... and carry them in his bosom...**_

_**Come unto him all ye that labour, come unto him that are heavy laden, and he will give thee rest.**_

_**... and ye shall find rest unto your soul...**_

For the first time in a long time, Loki felt as though his entire body was aflame with a liquid fire as though his very bones were molten lava. His spine had settled downward and his legs were splayed out, his arms at ease with his fingers intertwined with each other in a loose clasp. Loki's coat lay beside him, surrounded as he was by the heat of the mortals now sitting shoulder to shoulder in the long wood trestles with convenient backs. Pews, the Son of Rogers had called them.

There was another pause.

"Part Two," whispered Steve. "There are three parts. If you get bored, let me know and we can creep out."  
"Nonsense," Loki replied quickly. "We are here now. Might as well... enjoy the quiet while we can. Besides, what is there to return to?"  
"Good point."

Steve eased back nodding and for a moment, Loki regretted showing his cards. Now Steve would think him ungrateful for what the Avengers had done. Food and shelter and protection against the more vengeful mortals, yes. But Loki also had known it would come at a great cost. _This place is a sanctuary in comparison_, Loki thought, his eyes tracing the artful molding, following the graceful lines of architecture which reminded him of Asgard's great halls. That and the coloured pictured glass which would glow with unearthly colours he guessed if sunlight were to fall through.

_No. There is nothing to return to, Soldier_, Loki smiled to himself bitterly. _Thor and his insipid woman. Who is intelligent, yes. But a mouse and not worthy of a warrior of Asgard. Simpering mewling wretch. Son of Stark and his_ – Loki found himself unable to think too badly of Pepper. _Yes, she has the brazen confidence of a fool, but she is kind. Like Roger's Son. And she hits Stark so freely. More than a pawn, but less than a hero. Not unlike Loki. Not unlike you. Me. Not unlike me. Never mind. _Then there was Barton and Romanoff's Daughter no doubt in the corner licking their wounds and plotting his demise – that or making love like the rest of the couples. The amount of slowly building romance in the air was enough to choke him. Cloying and disturbing. _As if there weren't enough weakling mortals on this planet._

_No. It doesn't bear thinking on. Focus, Loki. Focus. _

_**He gave his back to the smiters...**_

_**He hid not his face from shame...**_

_**He was despised and rejected, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief...**_

_A good man bending to receive unwarranted punishment at the hands of lesser beings._ Loki glanced over at Steve. _Did the man know what this story was about? But then, this does seem like the thing that Roger's Son would embrace. Perhaps this is why the others pity him. But they cannot mock him. This is something that cannot deserve laughter – A good man bending to recieve unwarranted punishment at the hands of beings he came to help. No. Not even I can laugh at that._

_**All we like sheep have gone astray...**_

_**He was cut off out of the land of the living...**_

_**Thou didst not leave his soul in hell...**_

_**Lift up your heads, o ye gates...**_

_Wait. Sorry. This person went from Hel to Valhalla?_ Loki's eyes darted to Steve. _Was this some other mythological tale that the Midgardians liked to listen to as they did about Loki and his people? Not my people. My not-people. No. My – not-my-people people. The Aesir. Or... __This was too confusing. It did not bear thinking on. _

At any rate, the story became more and more exciting as the minutes passed. The voices grew stronger and stronger. The strings and the pipes and the other strange instruments swelled with triumph until the end. Even Steve was beginning to nod along with the music, as the tone of the whole piece became lighter.

_**Let all the angels of God worship Him...**_

_**Thou art gone on high...**_

_**Why do the nations rage so furiously together...**_

Loki was suddenly sent back to the first time he had let his newest horse out to gallop across the wide plain by the capital. It was a young black steed which his father had allowed to pick out from the newly culled stable younglings. Thor had chosen a brown and white stallion, but Loki was glad for his choice. The creature had responded well to him – and now they rode together as one.

Thor was beside him, a few paces alongside, whooping and laughing as the horses moved under them. The wind blew back in his hair – he was a bird on the wing, on the back of his fastest steed, on the sled going down an never-ending slope of hill. He was free.

_**For the Lord God the Omnipotent reigneth... Hallelujah..**_

People were for some reason getting to their feet.

_**And he shall reign for ever and ever...**_

_**King of Kings, Lord of Lords...**_

_**For ever and ever, hallelujah, hallelujah...**_

Loki slowly followed suit, looking about dazed as he realized many were singing along, including Steve. Green eyes closed as he let the strains of music wash over him. He wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment – but it didn't feel dark or oppressed.

There was no shame nor happiness nor anger... It was just him. Loki. With Steve who did not press on him. With the music. With something else that he could not measure in this small moment of happiness.

Applause thundered, but Loki found no strength to move his hands. Only to sit with the others when everyone returned to their seats. It was if he was entirely drained of everything – empty of everything. Just waiting. _Waiting for what? I'm not sure..._

Something soft pressed into his hand. He looked down. A wrinkled hand from the old lady on right, holding something soft and white. Loki stared at and then slowly accepted the second one pressed in his hand. A napkin. His green eyes rose to meet faded grey-blue ones and the old lady smiled, touching her cheek.

A soprano soared. The Captain was saying something about Part Three before stuttering to stop, blue eyes wide as his gaze rested on Loki.

_**I know that my Redeemer liveth.**_

Loki blinked then and his fingers rose awkwardly to his cheeks. _Wet._ He had been crying. _Oh. __Oh.__ By the Norns, he was a pathetic mess. If the spell wasn't placed on me, I would bury myself and allow myself to be content with Hel. And the Soldier..._ The Soldier patted him on the arm. Loki wanted to tear the man's arm off – _no, no you do not. He is a fool, yes. But a kind one. He brought you to something beautiful and deserving to be heard. Nothing crass or superficial. Something close to him. _

So Loki wiped his face awkwardly, hunching a little in a vain attempt to hide his shameful display of weakness, glad that no one here seemed to be there mocking him. The old lady herself seemed to have been crying as well.

_Small mercies, Loki.  
Small mercies? __Small mercies?__ You just compared yourself – justified yourself – at the level of an aged mortal woman. _

He sighed. It could be worse, _could it not_?

When it ended, Loki felt exhausted, despite the fact that he had done nothing that day of note – besides eating at a steakhouse and enjoying a Midgardian concert. But the exhaustion felt... good. As they left the temple (_church_, the Soldier called it a church), Steve insisted on getting him an 'early Christmas present' – a recording of the group's Messiah.

"We'll get Jarvis to play it for you tonight, before bedtime," Steve said. "It's soothing, isn't it? I'm getting one for myself – this group's really good, right?"  
"Yes," Loki said reluctantly. "They are." Pause. "Many... thanks..."  
"It's no problem, Loki," Steve smiled at the ex-God of Mischief's half-whispered thanks. "I am glad you weren't bored. Most people are."  
"People with no taste or awareness of beauty," sniffed Loki. "I may not have spent much time in the musical arts, but as prince of Asgard –" He winced. "Well, at any rate, when we were young, Mother tried to ensure Thor and I were properly tutored in dance and music."  
"Let me guess, Thor wasn't too great."  
"Well, later, much later, when Thor was of age and interested in the intricacies of... well," Loki hesitated. "When he discovered the joys of wenching, Thor grasped dance rather well."  
"You must've done well too."  
"Of course," bristled Loki. "I may not be the perfect warrior as my brother, but I was considered very... graceful in my day. And I did adequately master the gittern – at least enough to play various songs for when we were on adventures."  
"So if I got you an, um, gittern and some music sheets, you could technically play songs?"  
"I have no desire to play for anyone."  
"Did Thor make you play songs for him and his buddies up in Asgard?" asked Steve.

They were now getting on Steve's retro motor bike, Steve double-checking the straps under Loki's chin were fastened correctly. The dark blue helmet fit snugly around the ex-God's head and Steve slipped his on as well before revving up the motor.

"Hold tight."  
"You said that last time. I am no child," Loki grumbled back in his ear.

Steve pulled away from the curb, Loki clinging to his waist carefully, his grip easing after a few minutes.

"Well?" Steve yelled back. "You didn't answer my question."  
"Yes."  
"Yes, Thor forced you to play songs?"  
"Yes. Sometimes. I did not mind. It was fun to amuse people and poke sly fun as I twisted the lyrics... Can you go faster?"  
"Not really," Steve said regretfully. "Not in the city. But... we could go out for a run in the countryside, if you wanted. I promise to take you out to a back road and we can practice a few runs, if you like."  
"I will hold you to that."  
"Sure."

Pause. They came to a red light and idled for a moment.

"And Thor is not my brother." Loki had to add. "I am tired. It is a force of habit which returns when I tire. But he is not my brother."  
"Never said he was," Steve said.  
"Yes. Right." Pause. "Well..."  
"But he is," he added impishly. "And you know it."

-0-0-0-

"So... tomorrow we are going to be working with a homeless foundation charity thing," Tony was saying. "Not sure of the name – Pepper has all that stuff. But basically, Stark Industries is giving a ton of money to keep some homeless people off the street for Christmas. Thank Loki, everyone. His plight hit this stone heart and suddenly, it only seemed right to help the people who had welcomed our resident ex-war criminal and pressed him into its not so warm bosom and –"  
"You can stop at any time, Tony," Bruce said mildly.  
"Tony," Steve said. "Let's try to get this meeting done in a timely manner. Pepper. Why don't you lead us out?"  
"Thanks, Steve." Pepper gave Tony a look. Tony subsided. "OK, guys. So. Tony is kinda right. Stark Industries has always given a charitable donation to a foundation every Christmas. This year, what with the Avengers all in town and everything, I thought it would be awesome to actually do something – besides giving money. So, for supper, we're going to work at a soup kitchen. Sing some carols and hang out with a few homeless people."  
"We hang out with a homeless person all the time," Clint grumbled. "But hey... fine..."  
"My brother is NOT homeless," Thor frowned. "Asgard is his home. Stark Industries is his home. Midgard has become his home. You will give my brother the respect he deserves."  
"Uhhhh –"

But before Clint could say anything (or die at the mental hands of Loki), Tony butted in. _He would_, sighed Steve.

"Hey, hey, Clint. Thor's right. Loki's not homeless. Just... house-less?"  
"Well, if we go by that," Steve pointed out. "Then I'm houseless. And so is Thor."  
"Yeah," Bruce sniffed. "I lived on the streets, too – think I was hanging at the Hilton or something in Calcutta, Barton? I resent your comment."  
"Fine, fine," Clint raised his hands. "Forget I said that."  
"Asgard is not my home, Thor," Loki put in. "And I am not your brother."  
"Yes, you are," was the renewed chorus.

"EVERYONE!" Pepper's sharp shout caused everyone to freeze and then guiltily turn to look at the red-head. "OK. Glad to see that everyone is as immature as a kindergartener. So. What carols should we sing. Let's choose five of them."  
"Carols?" Thor asked. "The songs? I can sing one or two."  
"Jingle Bells. That's a classic," Jane suggested. "And Thor knows it."  
"Jingle Bells is good," Natasha sighed.  
"Short and sweet," Clint added.  
"Jingle Bells," wrote down Pepper.  
"We Wish You a Merry Christmas," Bruce leaned forward. "We could end with that."  
"Sure."  
"Hear, hear!"  
"Uhhhhh, how about something traditional?" Steve asked. "Silent Night?"  
"I second that," Loki said. "If anyone cares to hear my opinion on the matter."  
"Let us do Silent Night," Thor raised a fist, happy to agree with his brother. "This sounds like a very good list of music."  
"Away in the Manger is a short one too," Natasha grudgingly suggested. "And it's traditional."  
"OK. We've got four." Pepper said. "One more."  
"Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer," Tony said. "And – hey – what – guys! C'mon! It's a standard Christmas song – and has a great message. Strange people can be heroes too! Right?"  
"It is about a hero deer," Loki admitted.  
"And it is very popular," Steve said slowly. "We'll do it – but no one is going to make fun – or point at Loki or do anything stupid on stage – or Thor and I will personally show them our rendition of Hulk mopping the floor. And not with Loki this time. Right, Thor?"  
"Most certainly," Thor nodded.  
"I don't need your help protecting myself," Loki snapped. "It is a song. That is all."  
"Well, then, we have five," Pepper corralled them again. "Jane, what do you think of the list order?"  
"Looks good to me."  
"OK. So we have... Jingle Bells, followed by Silent Night, Away in the Manger, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and then We Wish You A Merry Christmas. Any objections? No? None? OK. Let's meet in the lobby at one o'clock tomorrow."

-0-0-0-

So far, the evening had gone well. Almost too well. It had begun with a sit down coffee time with the Avengers hanging out and playing cards with a bunch of old dudes in a large community centre which had been funded by the foundation. Pepper and Jane had disappeared to double-check the sleeping accommodations for the men, while the rest of the Avengers relaxed and played games, waiting for the cooks to call them into help serving the large group.

Fending off lecherous looks and sly innuendos, Natasha sat down for a serious game of Poker with Stark and six others. Clint, Thor and a few men were outside having a cigarette. Clint, assuring Natasha that it was a one-off social smoke, had suckered Thor into trying the stuff. Thor wasn't enjoying it so far. Jane wouldn't be happy, either. No sirree. But that was part of the fun.

Steve, Bruce and Loki were at another game of poker. Once he learned the rules, Loki turned out to be a wicked opponent. Bruce made a mental vow to get Loki, Natasha and Stark in a game together. With Fury. _Yes. That is the stuff dreams – or nightmares – are made of... _They were well immersed when another group of men showed up and suddenly, there was a cry of recognition.

"Well, if it isn't Loony!"  
"Loki!"  
"Paddy. Barker. Jacko." Loki rose, discarding his hand gracefully.

Ignoring Tony's snort of laughter, Loki drew closer. Paddy pulled Loki into a quick embrace, not allowing the ex-God to get too awkward with his inability to respond. The tall mortal seemed to look just fine – unmarked by any return of Niels' gang. Loki felt glad, which made him pause before shaking hands with the two others. Jacko's beard had been combed and even Barker looked like he had gotten a new jacket.

"Well met," Loki said quietly. "And you three look... in good health. For mortals."  
"Yeah, well, we do what we can, m'boy."  
"So you're with the Avengers now?" Jacko asked. "You made your choice?"  
"Yes..." Loki hesitated. "But you have not returned to your homes?"  
"We decided to hang together this year," Paddy smiled. "Emile disappeared about three days ago. Who knows. Maybe the statues got him. And Bobby... I think there's some girl now. I dunno. They come and go."  
"And Niels?"  
"No need to worry. The cops got'em."  
"Yeah. All's quiet on the Western front," Paddy grinned. "And now there's a hot meal and some bunks to be had for a month! Loki, you've brought us some good luck!"

Odin was rolling in his grave (sort of prematurely). The Norns were no doubt all aflutter as the world order turned on its head again, courtesy of the now powerless God of Chaos.

"Ah. That was none of my doing."  
"He lies," Bruce said easily, coming up to join Loki. "Loki really helped us remember that we all share this city and we need to help the people around us."  
"You do that already," Jacko had to point out. "You know... fighting super villains and stuff. Like that wacko Mole guy last year. He did a number on the underground."  
"I don't know," Steve shrugged, turning in his seat to watch Loki carefully, surprised at how relaxed Loki was around Paddy and his friends. There was friendship here. _Unbelieveable. Or maybe not. Totally understandable – if you took the time to think. Bruce has obviously been thinking._ "It's one thing to fight some bad guy – but it's another thing to make a difference in the hearts of people."  
"Well, we appreciate it nonetheless," Paddy replied. "Whatcha playing, Loki?"  
"Poker," Loki smiled. And Steve nearly dropped his cards at the sight of the sincere small smile which graced the ex-God's face. "I was winning."  
"You would. Deal us in. What are we betting with?"  
"Pennies?" Jacko was leaning over the table now.  
"Seriously?" Barker complained, sitting down. "We should up the ante a bit!"  
"Your gambling habits never change, do they?" grunted Jacko. "Pennies sound good to me."  
"That your stash, Loki?" Paddy pointed at a large pile at one end of the table.  
"All mine," Loki said smugly. "We should redistribute it so everyone can start with the same amount again."  
"Smug bastard," grumbled Bruce, but there was no real malice in his voice.

After another half hour of playing cards, there was more hanging out. Eventually the Avengers disappeared into the kitchen to help start carrying out the food and set up the tables. Loki gamely volunteered himself without prompting from Pepper, which earned him a smile and a look of pride on the part of his brother. _Not-brother. Thor. _

This was getting difficult to remember.

Contrary to Tony's and Clint's predictions, Loki made no attempt to poison the food. Nor did he try to eat it. _Although he should eat more_, Steve sighed. _He is still too thin for his height – but Thor says he was always a light eater... Maybe he misses Asgardian food. _

There was singing. Thor and Loki sang for two songs – Thor, boisterously and just a little off tune; Loki, more quietly and on tune, if not very confident. The music wasn't as beautiful or uplifting as the Messiah, but rather energetic. As promised, there was no one looking at Loki during the reindeer song and some of the men on the floor even joined in. Everyone applauded and asked for a ladies-only encore. A few jokes were bandied about regarding the Rockettes.

"I look good in heels," Tony yelled back, grinning, as he left the stage. "But not that good."

Making their way over to the table, they discovered that some men were coming back for more, which meant – serving time once again. Tony, standing in front of the table, poured the drinks while Loki went around the back and took up his station behind the potato stew.

"I am surprised you do not wear heels more often," Loki agreed, flashing Tony a shark-like grin. "What with your height disadvantage."  
"Yuck it up, Reindeer Games, at least I don't look like a cow."

Paddy and Jacko frowned as Loki froze at the words which had just emerged from Tony's mouth. His grip tightened on ladle as a memory arose. Thor's coronation day. Just before they had made their entrance.

_Some do battles, and some do tricks..._

_You do not want to start this again, do you, cow?_

Tony was still talking. As if from far away, but the words still pierced Loki's consciousness. His heart.

"That's what your brother used to call you, didn't he? Told us that last night. Something about you looking like a cow. Funny cows you must've had in Asgard."

_You are incapable of sincerity._

_I have looked forward to this day as much as you have, brother and friend. Sometimes I am envious, but never doubt – I love you._

"So now we've got another name for you. Reindeer Games, Rock of Ages. Loony. Cow –"

Paddy's fist suddenly connected with Tony's jaw. Watching as the short man staggered back, blood trickling just a bit from his lip, Paddy drew back and glanced at the taller ex-God contritely.

"Uhhh... Loki. Sorry. My fist slipped."  
"What is going on here?" Natasha was suddenly pulling Tony back and away from the others. Heads were turning and she rolled her eyes as Pepper's voice rose in her mind. _Men._

"Tony couldn't keep his mouth shut, as usual," Bruce said. "Here. I'll have a look at that. He'll be fine. What a baby."  
"Why are you apologizing to Loki?" Tony asked incensed. Fingers still on his lower lip, brown eyes sparkling with a little irritation.  
"He talks too much, doesn't he?" Paddy ignored the man and held out his bowl, which Loki took, eyes wide and unsteadily filled up with another ladle full of soup.  
"Just like on TV," Jacko said in awe. "You punched Anthony Stark, dude! That's... ballsy."  
"Sue me," Paddy shrugged. "It's not like I've got anything to pay. And time in prison only means regular food every day. I don't need his charity anyway. Neither do you, Loki."  
"I know," Loki replied. "It is no matter."  
"'Sticks and stones can hurt my bones but words can never hurt me'? That's a lie," Paddy said bluntly. "You punch him out if he gets too big for his britches."

Loki glanced down at the stew. _I can do nothing – but... perhaps that is just as well. Otherwise, I would sink to Stark's level and condemn myself with even more regrettable, reprehensible actions._ Loki smiled then. _Still, it is good to see the Son of Stark get a taste of his own medicine. And it is interesting to see that, as always, the Man of Iron is not afraid to take what he dished out. _

"Would you like a second serving?" Loki asked, raising another ladle and waving it at Jacko.  
"Of course. Lay it on me. Thanks, bud." Jacko paused. "Niels is gone and I know you don't wanna stir up the gangs in our end of town, but if things get too rough for you, this here centre's always open. They're really kind and now our winter is basically set. Thanks to the dickwad over there."  
"He means no harm," Loki tried again.  
"Yeah, well, he's an idiot," Paddy snorted, accepting some bread from Jane who smiled at him.  
"Sometimes, he is," Jane agreed. "But he needs to hear it from other people – not just us. So... you know, thanks. Here's some more stuffing."  
"I'll talk to him later," sighed Pepper, bustling past. "With him and Bruce gone, Nat, can you man the drinks?"  
"Sure," Natasha shrugged. "Let me know if another Loki fight breaks out."  
"I did not instigate this," Loki said. "Nor did I take part in it."  
"No. I know. You just... cause trouble by being there. It's like bad luck, you know?" the red-head grinned up at the tall Asgardian. "You hear about karma?"  
"Karma? I am not familiar with that term."  
"Well, it's a bitch."  
"I see."

He didn't really.

The evening ended with a rendition of Auld Lang Syne, begun by Paddy, and beer (ordered as an apology by Tony at the last minute). Pepper, shaking her head, watched as everyone sung and swayed with the tune. Loki, on the edge looking in, did not join at first. But when Steve pushed him a bit forward and when Bruce raised a toast to Christmas and the New Year, Loki raised his glass silently as well.

_It isn't over_, Steve knew. _But somehow I think we'll end up in the right place. Somehow. What ever has gone wrong... it'll be fixed. It's Christmas. Just another chance for a miracle._

* * *

**Yep. So... stuff is now... moving. Sort of. Loki is getting better. Not all of the Avengers are OK. But we'll get there. Next chapter is...**

**HOCKEY!_  
_**


	30. Burned Out – Tears Burned So Deep

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**I began this thinking... this chapter is going to suck. It's going to suck for VERY MANY REASONS...**

**Reason #1: I'm just tired tonight. Mentally wiped out. Particularly because of lesson planning for the English Winter Camp I'm running.**

**Reason #2: I don't know tons about hockey. And I don't care to know more. (What a bad Canadian I am...)**

**Reason #3: This chapter is going to be shallow and superficial and merely action oriented.**

**Reason #4: Not sure what character growth is going to happen here – which means a wasted space of a chapter to get something in...**

**Reason #5: Thinking more about Hiddleston's Prince Hal at the moment. B/C I'm watching the Hollow Crown and getting tons of Henry V feels.**

**WATCH THE HOLLOW CROWN! WATCH IT! WATCH IT NOOOOWWW!**

**Put down my fic and go get some good literature in you. Shakespeare has NEVER BEEN BETTER. PERIOD.**

**I MEAN IT.**

**GO NOW!**

**Anyways, I began to write this chapter feeling all kinds of uncertainty. But then, as I wrote, it came out differently than I thought it would – so hopefully it won't be as big of a let down as I thought...**

**THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVELY REVIEWS!**

**Frankly, where I come from (my part of Canada), there's a trend to kinda downplay the religious aspect of Christmas, but it's important for me, personally, and I do feel that no matter what faith we ascribe to, this particular holiday was first and foremost a religious holiday (of either the pagans or the Christians), and there should be a nod to it. Expect the Nativity to be explored in the upcoming chapters. :) Hopefully, as I do so, no one will be hugely offended.**

**Thanks again everyone!**

**Particularly...  
**

**THANKS TO CONEYCAT**

**who heard what this chapter entailed and had a dream  
and told me said dream which affect a tiny bit of the story line so the idea was hers.  
Scroll down to bottom to be spoiled as to what idea was hers. Or wait.  
**

**OVER A HUNDRED REVIEWS! (runs around screaming)**

**Ahem. Yes. Onwards.**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 30  
Burned Out – Tears Burned So Deep

"O my child, you cry so many tears  
Seems like you've been crying for the world...  
Hush my child, and lay you down to sleep  
Seems like you've been crying for the world...  
I will protect you, guard you and guide you  
Father, give me strength to do it right..."  
("Crying for the World" - sung by Eden's Bridge)

Two days later, the entire group found themselves on a privately rented ice skating rink complete with hockey and skating equipment. And a wiry old grandpa who left the popcorn machine every hour to man the zamboni. Such was the power of Tony Stark, genius extraordinaire and billionaire. Once again, Loki found himself hard pressed to look unimpressed.

Watching the others carefully, Thor and Loki figured out how to tie their feet into the black and white, padded, confining ice skates, while listening to conflicting tips being shouted at them from all directions. Jane double checked their laces and tried (but failed) to refrain from giggling as the two Asgardians staggered across the mildly spongy floor to the waiting ice.

Laughter broke out five minutes later when both Loki and Thor, clinging to each other desperately, found themselves a little winded, flat on their back, after falling on their asses in a rather undignified way. Staring up at the far away iron struts of the high-ceilinged building, Loki sighed.

"Tell me again, Thor," Loki gritted out as he swayed to his feet, hands on his bony knees. "Tell me again why I should not wipe out these disreputable creatures and put them and ourselves out of our combined misery?"  
"Come now, Loki," Thor shook his head and grinned as he got to his feet and took a couple more uncertain wobbly steps. "It is not that bad! Furthermore, if such an activity were to confound us, would that not make the case in their favour concerning their abilities to achieve much for such 'disreputable creatures'?"

He had a point. Thor had a point._ I think I may die now_, Loki sighed. _But not before making sure everyone else joins me in Helheim. Although..._ Here he took a few more careful paces before falling down once again – this time, forward onto his hands and knees. _With my luck, they would end up in Valhalla. Not that I would want to be tortured with their presence either... Still... it is the principle of the thing._

"I don't know if they'll learn how to skate quick enough to play hockey," Steve said, whizzing past gracefully.

_Of course he'd know how to skate well_, Bruce thought fretfully as he eased out onto the ice with the caution of an almost beginner. He wasn't doing much better than Thor and Loki.

"You think?" Clint snorted, close behind with Natasha at his side. "It's going to be yet another popular YouTube short movie by TheOneAndOnlyHawkeye."  
"YouTube... that's the place where you share videos, right?" Steve frowned. "You didn't upload anything that would humiliate Loki, did you?"  
"I don't think it's humiliating, per se," Clint grinned unrepentantly. "Might take him down a notch or two."  
"He can't get much more down," was the quick reply. The Captain shook his head. "I'll ask JARVIS to show me. If I don't think they are suitable, I'll have him remove them. Loki's having a hard time settling into Earth without having you making things uncomfortable for him."  
"C'mon, Steve! It's only in fun."  
"What's fun for you might not be for him," Bruce said, shuffling up behind, ignoring how Tony was almost patronizingly pacing him.

Which meant that either Tony actually cared about what would happen if Bruce fell down – or he was waiting to see if the Hulk would bust out under the stress. _Probably going for the latter. The idiot._

"I'll make sure to get some footage of Thor too," Clint said. "So it's not just Loki. And Bruce."  
"Thanks," Bruce replied shortly. "Uhhh... what is that?"  
"It's a training frame," Pepper said, moving a small frame toward the scientist. "You can lean on it and skate better."  
"Why not give it to Loki and Thor?" Bruce turned and saw that Thor had his own personal training device in the form of a very cute, vivacious Jane. "Or maybe just Loki..."  
"Ahhh... I tried, but Loki said something about turning it into a weapon of mass destruction, so I let him be."  
"He's back to being grumpy, huh?" Steve sighed. "I'll go see how he's doing."

Watching the Captain skate off, Clint frowned.

"Might be early days – by my initial observation is... You guys notice how the Cap has gotten more... Mother Bear-ish about our local ball of Mischief and Lies?"  
"Yeah," Tony nodded. "I think it was the Messiah that did it. I mean. Not Jesus. I mean, maybe Steve has got religion. I never asked. He probably does. Or it's nominal or whatever. Y'think he believes in the seven days of creation?"  
"So what if he does?" Pepper asked. "Does it matter?"  
"No. But it's kinda lame, if you ask me. On the other hand, we are living in a universe apparently where there are immortal, almost invincible gods from Outer Space who can't be shot by bullets, who can create black holes and travel through time and space and some can do magic and astral project among other craziness... I guess seven days of creating the universe isn't so hard to believe. Oh wait. No. It still sounds ridiculous."  
"Ridiculous is a bit harsh."  
"Oh yeah? OK, GRM. What'd you call it?"  
"Quaint?" laughed Bruce. "Anyways, I think it's fair to say that Tony is right. Something must have happened – and knowing Steve, it must have been something big. Our Captain is kind-hearted, but he isn't soft or stupid. But then, I gotta say that Loki... his situation gets to you."  
"Not me," Clint snorted.  
"Well, aside from you," Bruce amended, rolling his eyes. "But, I mean, think about it. Stuck on a world you tried to take over. Forced everyday to look your failure in the eye. Knowing that even if you admit to regret, no one is going to believe you..."  
"Yeah. I told Thor that once," Tony said vaguely. "He's the only one on Team Loki for now."  
"Count me in," Pepper said. "And Jane."  
"And I definitely don't mean him harm. Anymore," Bruce added.  
"Hopefully the Hulk gets the memo," grinned Tony. "Otherwise, it'd be a little bit of mixed signals – well, OK. Not a little. A lot of mixed signals. But Loki could figure it out eventually. As for me, well, I did promise to tone it all down, didn't I?"  
"Not doing so well on that front," Pepper said, keeping an eye on Bruce as he finished his first circuit of the rink complete with trainer. "You done with that, Bruce? OK. Let's try it again. To be honest, I can't stop very well. Starting is fine – but once you do that – there's the whole stopping thing. Not so good at that..."  
"Hear, hear."  
"Hey," Tony frowned. "It's not my fault that Reindeer Games is such a... nice... glaring... larger than life target! A man has to sharpen his wit somehow!"  
"Tony, what comes out of your own mouth is always your fault," Pepper said severely. "You can make a choice not to respond. And frankly, lately, you've been the one doing all the instigating. Considering that you are the person who had the bright idea to drag him into our Christmas celebrations, you should be more... thoughtful."  
"Fine, fine. I'll try to watch it."  
"Promise?"  
"I just said I would, Pepper. Geez. It's like you don't believe me anymore or something!"  
"Well, you are a great man," Pepper twined her arm around Tony's. "With many things on your mind. I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of things or two slipped your mind."  
"Uhhh... many things, huh? So, now you're blaming yourself?" Tony frowned. "That's not cool."  
"Who said that I was on your mind?" Pepper smiled, her face leaning closer now.

Tony leaned in for a kiss.

"I did."  
"Uhhh... I'm going now, guys. Thanks." Bruce skated off, a bit more confidently, leaving his two friends/employers behind.

Up ahead, Loki was more gracefully crossing the ice. Beyond, Thor was also improving. Bruce shook his head. The two Asgardians were obviously once again picking up the technique quite easily. _Just like the snowboarding and skiing. Higher intelligence? Maybe. Definitely in the case of Loki_, Bruce mused. _But it's probably more to do with the fact that their entire society is based on physical activity and duties for warriors. Weapons fighting and stuff like that. I know Loki isn't really part of that stereotype – but he still has a kind of kungfu style... _

"Tony," Bruce slowed down, allowing Pepper and Tony to catch up again, now thankfully coming up for air. "You notice how... different Loki is from his adopted brother, Thor?"  
"Yeah... well, obviously they are different."  
"OK. Stupid statement. I should say... from what I read about the other Asgardians who came to visit way back when – Loki is even different from them. And the way Thor talks – they all look genetically more or less of the same race – and are all interested in more or less the same things. The magic thing is more female, warrior stuff more male. Your typical patriarchal system. Loki doesn't..."  
"He doesn't fit," Tony nodded. "I know. I saw that one a long time ago, Bruce."  
"You asked him."  
"Oh yes. Over cocktails. After I went... digging..."  
"Oh. The cocktail conversation. You must've covered a lot of ground. What did you find?"  
"Haha. Nice one. But I can't say – Loki would try to kill me and you know how that would turn out. But you've got JARVIS and tech. Find out yourself. I promised him to say nothing."  
"Huh. And you've kept it secret, all this time?" Pepper asked. "I'm proud of you, Tony."  
"I'm proud of me too, Pepper-pot. Wanna try to waltz down the middle? I've been practising. Well, not so much practising – but mentally going through it – and I don't think we'd fall down this time –"

The two skated off, Bruce stood there, watching his friend and employer, the dark-haired genius, gather up the feisty, independent Pepper Potts up into his arms and with a short command to JARVIS, the entire rink was filled with the opening strains of some ballroom song. Even the lights had dimmed. Which was great. _Just great. Sarcasm hand. _

Thor couldn't skate well, but slow dancing on ice wasn't asking too much of him and of course when you had the girl you loved in your arms, things always would seem like they could work out. Bruce pushed away his bitter thoughts. _Now isn't the time to think of – no, best not go there._ He made his slow way over to Loki and crashed into the wall which the ex-God of Mischief was now leaning against. _Natasha and Clint. Thor and Jane. Pepper and Tony. And then there's us three. The three bachelors. _

"You cannot find a good way to halt in these ice shoes, Banner's Son?" Loki noted mildly amused.  
"No. I don't think I ever will," Bruce admitted. "How I'm going to play hockey later on is beyond me. And I don't think I can feel my feet either."  
"Your feet have been crushed or injured?" Loki's glance drifted downward speculatively.

_Not that he cares, but other people's misfortunes do tend to cheer him up. Well, anyone else having a messed up life would cheer me up if I was as screwed over as Loki's life is now._ Bruce shrugged.

"No. It's the cold."  
"Ah."  
"You feeling the cold yet?"  
"No," Loki replied vaguely. "Cold has never troubled me."  
"I see. Lucky."  
"Yes," Loki said darkly, grinning at a private joke, which Bruce knew he wouldn't share. "Lucky, lucky, lucky. But I would have you know, if I had magic, I could cast a spell on your feet such as would light a warmth underneath to banish any cold for the rest of the day."  
"Wow. That sounds nice," sighed Bruce.  
"I could also set your feet on fire," Loki continued on without missing a beat. "Or made it so that it would be as if you were walking on coals –"  
"Uhhh... buddy, for one second, you had me there. Now you're just creeping me out."  
"Not that I can do it," Loki grumbled.  
"It's the thought that counts," Bruce said severely. "You need to get over those homicidal tendencies. They don't really make us want to go easy on you."  
"You were not easy on me previously."  
"Likewise for you. If we're talking about the time you opened up a portal. Although, I agree that some of us here aren't at their best this season. It's a vicious circle. I'm willing to break it and forget you said that whole putting my feet on fire. Maybe you were just joking anyways."  
"It is possible it was a joke," Loki smiled a quick grin then, his green eyes glinting sharply. "And you will never know."  
"I guess not."

They watched the couples dancing some more. The music had shifted into a new song. Bruce wasn't sure was singing in it – but it sounded something like what Pepper would listen to during yoga or something. Gentle and soothing it echoed around the empty stadium, gentle lights glowing around the three couples, while Steve sped in quick circles around him, obviously set on a workout while he was at the rink. Bruce wondered if the Super Soldier was as bothered as he was by the reminder that once again they would have to spend another Christmas without the girls they loved.

"You leave a girl behind at home?" Bruce found himself asking. It slipped out before he could stop himself. For a moment, he cursed his thoughtlessness. But Loki didn't lash out. Merely shifted from one foot to another and his hands tightened on the edge of the red lined metal and plastic barricade against which they leaned.  
"No."  
"Right. Sorry."  
"Sorry?" Loki's lips quirked upwards. "My life, such as it is, is tumultuous enough without the added burden of perverse women or other desires which squander one's time, energy and attention."  
"You don't like girls then?"  
"I like them well enough. In their place. At the proper time."  
"Misogynist."  
"I do not hate women," Loki sniffed. "Nor do I believe that they cannot have their... uses. Within and without the marriage bed. Lady Sif, my... my mother. Even the Black Widow, as she calls herself – all these women are accomplished in their own right, are they not?"  
"Well, yeah. So why don't you respect them some more?"  
"I do," Loki raised an eyebrow. "I shall offer them the same death that I offer anyone. There is no greater respect than that. The only ones who receive special attention will be the ones who unfortunately bumbled into my path and offered me personal pain. And you will be glad to know that the women will have equal rights to die tortuously as the men."  
"Good to know... So you'd kill your mom?" Bruce asked skeptically.  
"Well, no. Of course not," Loki snapped back. Then paused and turned away, his cheeks a bit pink. "Stop laughing."  
"I'm not," Bruce said. "Stop being an idiot, Loki. Most guys have some kind of an Oedipus thing going on. Don't ask. The way I hear it, Frigga, your mother, she's pretty much awesome. It's no surprise you look up to your Mom – so you expect a lot out of the women around you. Girls that can take care of themselves. Powerful. Independent. Curious. Intelligent. It's not shameful to have the hots for stuff like that."  
"I am not aware of what 'the hots' may entail, but I can make a guess. It is true that intelligent creatures are indeed beautiful for their rarity. Beings of power and curiosity and the ability to laugh..." Loki paused. "I have not thought on it for a long... long... long time."  
"And it's probably difficult for you to get a girl now, isn't it?" Bruce scratched his head.  
"Are you mocking me, one-who-plays-at-being-a-man?"  
"Uh. It's Bruce. And no, I'm not. Calm down, Loki. Think about it – you think a girl wants to hang out with a guy who can turn into, and I quote, 'a green rage monster', at the drop of a hat?"  
"You have more control than that."  
"Yeah – but it's not a chance I'm willing to take."

The song was winding down to an end. Bruce stepped forward and Loki followed after him reluctantly. Avoiding the chattering group of men and women now congregated in the middle, the two men edged around the rink, still silent. Thinking on the knotty question at hand. Bruce was wondering how it was that he was here. _Here._ On a skating rink. Hired by the great Tony Stark. _Skating._ Skating with the God of Mischief, Loki. _Loki._ Skating with him, Bruce, the Hulk. Skating peacefully and talking about girls. _Girls!_ And how to get them or why they weren't getting them. _Mind-boggling._

"Thor tells me that chances are the necessary risk to discovering love," Loki grimaced. "The question is whether you think the risk is worth it."  
"He's right."  
"Perhaps."  
"You know he's right," Bruce sighed.  
"He is not often right," Loki argued, then reluctantly conceded, "but on this topic, he may not be far off."  
"More like spot on."  
"Do you think you will take that risk again one day?" asked Loki.  
"Maybe. Maybe," Bruce eyed Loki. "Did you ever take that risk?"  
"No," Loki frowned. "I have never found anyone to be my equal."  
"Narcissist."  
"It is true."  
"Doesn't make you less of a narcissist."  
"I do not love myself," Loki said defensively. "I merely stated –"  
"No. I get it. I know." Bruce remembered Loki's words.

_And fret not. This spell, combined with the older ones weaved during Svartalheim, assure that no violence either from or to myself ____or both__ can be accomplished successfully... Your brother is quite safe._

Remembered his own words.

_I got low._

Not a narcissist at all.

-0-0-0-

After that followed an hour and a half of practice, crack the whip, practice, more waltzing, practice, trying to get Loki to waltz (result: successful, if stiff) and yet more practice. When lunch rolled around (delivered by Happy), everyone was more than ready to dig into the hot pizza, chicken wings, cheese macaroni salad and sodas. Alone both Thor and Loki each consumed a good large pizza and then some. Loki in particular. Watching the still thin body of Thor's younger brother, Jane sighed. _It will take him a while to recover_, she thought. _And before then, he'll run back onto the streets. Thor says I'm not supposed to worry, but when it must be eating Thor up to think that his brother is all alone and stuff... I guess things just get out of control and there's nothing you can do but wait until everything's settled down to pick up the pieces. If only I could help..._

Lunch ended without much issue. Some small needling on Clint and Loki's parts, nearly dragging in Tony, but Pepper gave him 'the look', which made him sit back and sigh with a small pout. Tony did love to banter. He got carried away sometimes, but Pepper knew that deep down, the genius and inventor recognized something kindred in Loki. Just as he had in Bruce.

So, lunch ended. The hockey game began. Once again, Steve and Tony on opposing teams. This time, Steve with Loki, Clint and Bruce. Tony with Natasha, Thor and Jane. Pepper sat on the side and cheered them on. Happy had a video camera in hand as usual to get some more footage.

Of course, the Asgardians took to the sport like ducks to water. There was something about the sheer power and animal spirits needed that made sense to Thor's natural athletic abilities. Loki, although less powerful than his brother, had a grace – an eel-like quality – which allowed for him to get his stick in between places no stick should go. Ego drove Thor to never back down from challenging Loki, but both had to be careful. There was the spell to think of. It hovered over the group like a looming dark cloud and Loki more than once found himself slammed into the boards accidentally (or not) – without any way to respond excepting the barest defence. Not that many could body check him anyways. His body mass, like Thor's, was much heavier – so Tony or Bruce (or Jane) throwing themselves at him would find the impact to be similar to hitting a brick wall. Not conducive for one's health. Steve and the rest however did not feel so restrained.

But that was hockey.

"Hockey's a physical sport," Steve said in explanation, during a short break, as people ran to the bathroom or took healthy gulps of water. "I mean. All sports are physical – hockey more so. Frankly, I'm much more of a baseball fan. You don't know about Canada, do you? Well. Canadians, Russians and Americans love hockey. Northern countries that get a lot of snow, you see. And there's tons of bench brawling and hooliganism and stuff..."  
"Hooliganism. Now there's a word that's bringing back the old days," joked Tony. "Courtesy of our walking anachronism. This moment of pre-War brought to you by Steve Rogers. We could get you a radio talk show on the strength of it. Seriously. Ever thought of doing those radio plays?"

Loki eyed the Son of Rogers curious to see what the man would do to Tony Stark for obviously mocking him about his past. Roger's Son just shook his head and sighed.

"Whatever, Tony. Think of it as the education you never got."  
"Oooohhhh... Little Boy Blue is bringing out the big guns," Tony whistled.  
"Tony."

That was Pepper's warning voice.

"Ah. Duty calls," Tony fled.  
"You did not tear him from limb to limb," Loki said thoughtfully. "I would have. If I had my magic, there would be naught but a black spot on the wall to say, 'This is where the Son of Stark last stood'."  
"And it would end up getting it's own shrine," chuckled Steve. "But um, payback isn't something that should be taken on lightly."  
"You are an Avenger," Loki pointed out. "By your very definition, you must indeed deliver on returning the favour, am I not right?"  
"True," Steve sighed. "But only as a last resort. If we cannot achieve peace any other way."  
"I see..."  
"Besides, it's Tony. No one ever takes him seriously a hundred percent."  
"I HEARD THAT, ROGERS!"  
"So, yeah. Just... you know, ignore him. Like I just did."  
"I HEARD THAT TOO!"  
"Or ask me to deal with it," Steve continued without missing a beat. "If it gets too much for you. Or talk to Bruce. Or Pepper."  
"Thank you. Again."  
"No problem. Ready to beat them?"  
"Of course!"

The teams re-congregated on the ice – and within minutes, the game once again got well underway. Pepper took note of the score, Happy rolled the film and tensions began to heat up, particularly between the two assassins and two brothers. The air filled with the clack of plastic and wood meeting ice and each other. Scuffling, shouting, yelling, insults, and roars of triumphs (or failures) filled the air. The Asgardians, now very much filled with the heat of battle, had doffed their helmets and were tearing up and down the rink like pros. Steve and Tony, in the goals, had their hands full with either of them every few minutes. Clint and Natasha had their own personal vendetta going on as well, often drawing in Bruce and Jane by accident as the two "weaker" players tried to wrangle the puck away from yet another stalemate situation. (Natasha's stick was covering the puck and watching Clint for any movement on his part. They could go like this for hours.)

Thor had obviously received some kind of lesson from Tony because he began to body-check anyone in sight (excepting his own teammates), in an attempt to get at the round black puck. As the half hour drew to a close, the score six to five in Tony's (and Thor's) team's favour, tension rose even higher. A mass of sticks and bodies converged on the puck in the middle of the rink as everyone appeared to abandon their position. Bruce swept his stick back, swatted the puck, which, ricocheting off of Steve and Thor's twined sticks, hit Loki full on in the face.

Everyone froze as Loki, attempting to dodge it, took it in his lower mouth. A wet, crunching sound. The puck skittered off and blood spattered a little as Loki reeled away, hand going for his mouth. Bending over a little and staggering away, Loki found his hands unexpectedly finding Thor, who helped him down onto the ice. From far away, Loki could hear Bruce's panicked voice as the now distraught, curly-haired scientist bent over him. The pain, radiating from his mouth, slowly spread through his jaw and began to throb in his head.

"OhmygoshohmygoshI'msosososososorry. I'm so sorry! Sorry! Ouch! Oh my gosh. OK. Um. Right. Uh. Steve..." Steve was bending over Loki, trying to pry the now very red, slender fingers away from the large cut. "Get back... let me. Oh gosh. We need a med kit. There's a lot of blood. I think I – uh – Damn. It's cut open his lip. Loki. Let me just see." Bruce turned to Pepper, brown eyes worried as he took the med kit from her hand. Happy was on the phone. "Someone call the paramedics, I'll try to stop the bleeding here..."  
"Already on it," Pepper said. "Just calm down, Bruce. It's not your fault."  
"Yes, it is," Bruce muttered. "I wasn't thinking straight – just hitting the puck. Rookie thing. I told you I was a menace on ice."  
"You're a menace twenty-four seven," Tony said, laying a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "But you didn't mean it. Not this time anyways. I'm sure Loki understands, right, uh, Loki?"

Loki was nodding and edging away, as blood slid down his chin.

"I'll hee hine," he slurred. "'sall righ'."  
"You are not fine," Pepper glared at Loki.  
"Brother, you are bleeding like that boar Volstagg skewered on my third hunt," Thor also found himself agreeing with the others.  
"Naahhh uuurrr 'rotherr."  
"Yes, you are," Thor replied almost automatically. "Are you in pain?"  
"Hine. Hine."  
"You are not fine," Bruce said. "Now. Just let me see – OK. Oh wow. Uh. You cut your lip really badly. I think it cut your gums as well."  
"I foresee baby food in your future, Reindeer Games," Tony shook his head. "But it's not all bad. Milkshakes. And, uh, soup. Pepper makes a mean fruit smoothie. And there are always Love Junk cocktails. You liked those."

Loki's eyes lit up at the memory of his favourite drink. His fingers pressed the gauze bandage against his lip, his eyes narrowing as they watched Bruce's fingers moving over the medicants in his big white box. Bruce wasn't sure what else he could do at the moment. _Particularly since Loki isn't telling me jack all_, he sighed. _I'm trying to stem the bleeding, but, like most head wounds, it needs stitching. Just great. Thankfully the paramedics will be here any moment. But I don't know if he'll let them touch him. It's... It's scary how he won't let me help him. It's hard to trust people after what he's been through. I don't blame him._

"Loki, the paramedics are going to need to have a look at it," Bruce said softly.

Loki jerked back.

"I'm f-fine," Loki hissed with a slur. Blood began to seep out again.  
"Hey, hey."

It was Jane now, her slight hand lying gently on his forearm. His eyes jerked down to where her hand laid and he tried to move away, but Jane's fingers tightened a bit. Pepper was leaning down to ease off Loki's skates, allowing the ex-God to relax a bit more and curl up a bit easier against Thor.

"Listen, Loki," Jane smiled. "Don't worry. We won't hurt you – or give you anything you don't want, OK? We just want to have a look. Bruce, why don't you explain what they'll do for Loki?"  
"Well, Loki... normally, you'd not get hurt by something like this. And lately, you said you got shot. Bullets should just ricochet off of you, right?"

Loki's eyes slid upward to Clint before nodding slowly. Clint grinned.

"So he can feel pain and actually get shot by bullets, huh? Sweet."  
"Clint. Don't get any ideas," Pepper glared at the archer.  
"It's not like it would kill him, right? Just part of his godliness got taken away."  
"That is true," Thor nodded. "Loki cannot be killed – but grievously injured, yes. As with the puck today."  
"I know that you will heal, Loki," Bruce smiled at the ex-God of Mischief who had slowly turned his eyes away from Clint to meet his own. "But it'll take longer and until then, I'd like to see that disinfected."

A couple of paramedics were trooping into the locker area of the rink.

"So, the paramedics – the, uh, travelling doctors will have a look at it. Disinfect it. Maybe give you a pain killer – and then we'll stitch it UUUUUUHWA!"

Bruce's sentence was cut off as Loki's foot lashed out - but it never connected. Steve watched Loki's foot fly forward as if in slow-motion and without warning or a seconds thought, his hands were alreadying grabbing Bruce's jacket, pulling him back onto Clint and Tony and crashing all three against his chest. He took took the full brunt of it, slammed into the backboards with an _oophf_! Flinging himself up and away from Jane, Loki tried to rise – only to be pulled down swiftly by Thor. Loki began to thrash and heave, hissing and growling as Thor easily put him into a headlock which not only incapacitated Loki's arms but bent him back. The gauze bandage had fallen off now and blood ran down again freely from the cut lip. Pepper saw that it was a vertical cut, running down the side of his mouth, opening up to the gums.

Later on, Bruce could be proud that he had some power in his non-Hulk state swing. But not for now. _Maybe never_, she corrected herself. _He'll always feel guilty now. Idiot man._

Loki's wriggling and slurred Nordic speech eased as he realized he could go nowhere. He began to gargle and choke a little.

"Ease him forward," Jane said to Thor. "Forward. Yes. Like that. Lean him back like that and he'll end up drinking or choking on his own blood. He's losing a lot more than I would like."

Loki's head fell forward and the blood began to fall down more freely. Bruce and the others were coming back, Bruce's hands certain and stable even though he still felt a faint buzzing in his ears from the lack of oxygen thanks to sudden jerk on his scarf and jacket which had bunched up around his neck. There was also a pain in his lower back from hitting Clint's knee. Clint was cursing Loki somewhere in the background, nursing a blow to his funny bone, while Tony was rolling over a little slowly before joining Steve, who was already talking to the paramedics and trying to explain to them the situation.

"Why did he freak out like that?" Jane asked, confused. "This is standard medication."  
"You gave him pills before," Bruce agreed. "I don't – I don't get it."  
"He's crazy," Clint said. "You said so before. Head is a bag full of cats."  
"I have to agree," Natasha frowned. "Unless it's something to do with the... stitching..."

Loki once again twisted, hissing something that sounded like 'nonononono'. Thor's face suddenly darkened as his mouth twisted downward. He glanced up at Steve and then at Bruce, confused.

"Stitching? You wish to stitch his mouth? But why? My brother is surely the victim here!"  
"Uh... Thor. It's because he is the victim," Tony said. "You know. Stitching cuts like this is common. What do you do in Asgard when someone is hacked by a blade?"  
"It is bound up and healed within the hour by crystals or within two days or so – depending on the magical abilities of the warrior – the natural course of things." Thor smiled then. "My brother, having seithr, or magical abilities, could heal himself of most maladies within a few minutes. If he had magic now –"  
"Don't say it," was the responding chorus.

Thor blushed and chuckled, then sobered.

"There are some in the Nine Realms who heal slower or who have little response to crystals or such and these may, for a time, receive such bonds to their wounds as are stitched by a surgeon's thread. Is this what the travelling doctors seek to do?"  
"Yes," Tony said. "What did you think we were doing?"  
"Well, as part of my brother's punishment, his lips were sewn together during his time spent in the Asgardian cell –"  
"What? Wait... What?" Clint winced. "Ahhh... Awww... That's just..." Pause. "Gross."  
"Gross punishment, perhaps, yes. But the Council has ever sought to punish Loki for his misdeeds and my Father, for all his power, could not gainsay the people of Asgard. Particularly when Loki's – when –" Thor trailed away, as Loki tensed beneath him – and then relaxed as Thor returned to the original subject. "So, this stitching will not hinder my brother's speech."  
"Sadly, no," Tony chuckled. "In fact, it will aid him to speak even more quickly. And if he's not happy with the result, I'm sure I can reverse engineer Steven Hawking's tech and get him a working speaker for him – so he can get back to predicting our demise in his usual gruesome way."  
"Did you hear that, Loki?" Thor said, releasing his brother a little.  
"O'course, hool," Loki hissed. "'y 'outh isn't 'urking 'ut that doesn't 'ean I can't hear you!"  
"Oh, right. Right."

Loki relaxed, arms released and the paramedics came forward to ease away the gauze bandages. Watching their work carefully, Bruce kept an half an ear out for the rest of their talk, as he was sure Loki was doing as well. Going by the glint in those green eyes, the ex-God of Mischief wasn't too happy – but neither did he look murderous. A step up, really.

"This is an eye opener," Tony said, crossing his arms and looking very unhappy. "What kind of medieval torture place do you live in up there in Asgard? This wouldn't look good on the brochures if you ask me. 'Come enjoy the warm delights of Asgard's finest – and oh, by the way, if you screw up, you can be assured that your mouth will be sewn up and you'll be tossed in a pit for a couple hundred years' –"  
"His mouth wasn't sewn in the Pit," Thor said patiently. "That was much longer after. After Svartalheim. Rather. When he spent time in Asgard's dungeon, because of his proximity to Asgardian society, his mouth and his verbal magics were sealed. The room he was housed in was perhaps not the finest, but it was sufficient and well-kept." He paused. "Father never told me why he was moved. And Loki has not spoken of it. But there were rumours."  
"What kind of rumours."  
"Nothing I should speak of and would do more harm than good at this point," Thor shook his head. "When Loki moved to Svartalheim –"  
"Sounds so blase, switching Realms for criminals, doesn't it?" Tony had to interject. "Like moving house – only you know – more like out of the frying pan and into the fire."

Loki found himself mentally agreeing.

"When he moved to Svartalheim, what happened?" Jane asked, eyebrows knitting together.  
"The stitching was removed. The elves had other ways of binding his tongue which were less... barbaric. Such is the power of magic, I suppose."  
"Yay, magic!" Clint cheered without much vigour.  
"Well, that explains his reaction," Natasha nodded calmly. "It's kinda interesting that of all people to get injured, it would be Loki. And of all people to need stitches, it would be him. He really has bad luck." Her calm eyes flickered over Loki's tense shoulders and the way his fingers dug into the ice. "It scares him." She paused. "I'm sorry."  
"As am I, Lady Natasha," Thor said, slipping into his habitual Asgardian speech, blue eyes filled with worry. "Memory still has a strong hold on my brother."  
"Don't expect it to be otherwise," Natasha turned away then, her voice muffled as she eased off her muffler. "Memories have a bad habit of sticking around. Like unwanted guests. It won't be easy for your brother to forget. In fact, I'd say it's impossible." She glanced back down at Loki. "Trust me."

Loki, green eyes meeting hers, made no move, merely blinked. She nodded and moved onward. The corners of his mouth deepened a little with a small grimace, a nod to irony. Of all people, she understood and she could not judge.

Tutting, the paramedic told him to relax and, realizing that the stitching was already taking place, Loki, shutting his eyes, recalled his words. Words that could fit anyone in that room. Including him.

_Your ledger is gushing with red..._

In the end, the memories would always arise to haunt him. Haunt him. Haunt the ones around him. Haunt Bruce the Beast. Steve, the Super Soldier. Haunt them – but never hobble them. He hoped. _If there is no hope for them, then I will always remain... as now and before... nothing._

* * *

**Sooooo... Therein ends the unexpectedly long chapter. Whether it's any good is for you to tell me... I was frankly expecting worse. But there you go.**

**10 more chapters go! YAY! Then I'll write up a new story after Lent - something along the lines of an AU, BAMF!Jotunn!Loki with tons of feels. **

**Coneycat's idea: Have a misunderstanding arise over stitching Loki's lip during the accident.**

**LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! REVIEW~~~  
**

**And watch Hollow Crown.  
**

**Like now.  
**

**NEXT CHAPTER: Birthing a baby. The Nativity.  
**


	31. What Child Is This?

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Reply to Reviewers:

Sydney Jones - Thanks a ton! Glad you enjoyed it despite not knowing tons about hockey!

**OK. ONE MORE DAY OF ENGLISH CAMP! YAY! 9 Chapters left to go. Then a bunch of one-shots or something to tie up some loose ends. **

**Still on a Prince Hal kick. Can't wait for Friday which is when my two friends and I will enjoy an awesome Indian-run Indian restaurant and Starbucks and then Henry IV Part 1. Then reading some of Christmas Magic aloud... 'Twill be awesome.**

**PARTICULAR WARNING FOR SWEARING AND LANGUAGE coming UP AHEAD courtesy of PREGNANT WOMAN!  
**

**Thanks to all reviewers! Hope this chapter brings joy and laughs.  
**

**7500+ words of... well... goodness, I hope. Let me know!  
**

**MANY, MANY, MANY THANKS TO SKOGEN**  
**FOR HER DETAILED BREAKDOWN OF BIRTHING!**  
**If you think this chapter is awesome, it's all thanks to her!**

* * *

Christmas Magic

Chapter 31  
What Child Is This?

"What child is this who lays to rest  
On Mary's lap is sleeping  
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,  
While shepherds watch are keeping?"  
("What Child Is This?" - sung by Sarah Mclachlan)

_This is getting complicated. Even more complicated than I thought it would get_, Tony thought as he watched Pepper scrape the metal mixing bowl clean of the smooth, chocolatey cake batter while Loki held it over the nine by thirteen baking pan. (Yet another attempt to bake. Most likely just as misguided and unfortunate as the rest before it.) _It's not so easy anymore for us. Three years ago, creatures we could never have imagined in our nightmares descended and destroyed the homes, the city, the ones we loved... and now, three years later, I'm watching the leader of said Chitauri invasion trying to bake a cake. The guy who stabbed Coulson and killed him. The guy responsible for the deaths of so many... so much devastation. But it isn't that easy, is it? No. Of course not. Now he's a giant softie battling suicidal tendencies, homicidal tendencies and so many other things we can only guess at._ Tony watched Pepper's face light up with a smile as she managed to get Loki to agree to lick the chocolate-covered spatula. The small smile on Loki's face as his tasted the batter felt strange to the Avenger. _Strange, but OK._

Pepper looked up, met his eyes and raised his eyebrows.

"Tony. I didn't see you there. What've you been up to?" She asked.  
"Nothing much. Did some coding. Hung out with Bruce. Got your Christmas present – which, by the way, rocks beyond belief. I amaze myself sometimes. Which is harder than you think. Believe it or not. And, uh, what else... Made the meat orders. Got you your sausages and chicken, Rudolph. And turkey. And a roast. And a ham. And then, I hung out. Poked Bruce. Literally at one point. C'mon, Pep, I was bored! Checked out Happy's new winter wheels – you know, what with the snow. Thinking about bringing out the chains. Not for you, Reindeer Games. For the car wheels. Helps with traction. Don't know if you noticed, but a ton of snow was dumped last night."  
"I noticed," Loki replied coolly, watching Pepper slip the cake into the oven.  
"Timer's set and temperature's OK. Let's let JARVIS deal with the rest," said the red-head. "Tony, did you get those wreaths?"  
"Uhhhh..."  
"TONY!" Pepper glanced out the window. "I really wanted to hang them sooner than later! It's only five days until Christmas!"  
"Well, uhhh..." Tony glanced at his watch. Four o'clock. "I could run out and grab them now. You got the card for the tree farm place thing? Right. Of course you do. OK. I'll take the new wheels out for a test drive. Me and the GPS."  
"And Loki," Pepper suggested, raising an eyebrow and cocking her head. "Take Loki too."  
"I have no desire to pick up wreaths, Lady Pepper," Loki said sniffed. "I believe I shall return to my rooms and leave you lesser beings to your own devices."  
"Pepper!" Tony bunched his fists on his hips and frowned. "I can get there on my own. I hardly need a keeper!"  
"I'm not saying you do," Pepper said. "It's just, you know... nice to see things done in a timely manner."  
"Loki, you don't have to go anywhere," Tony waved a hand. "I don't need your help, thanks. I can take care of myself."

Loki looked amused from Tony's annoyed expression to Pepper's stern look. Apparently, the two of them knew each other very well indeed. He smirked. Of course the Man of Iron was a slave to his woman – but Loki did not feel sorry for the man at all. _Lady Pepper has to handle much for this man_, he thought. _And she has looked more fatigued since the skating incident._

"Very well, Lady Pepper," sighed Loki, trying to look very much put upon (and succeeding). "I shall go to make certain that your unfortunate choice in mates has not strayed from his mission."  
"Thank you, Loki," smiled Pepper, giving Loki a sideways hug which made him twitch a little. "I appreciate your help. And for putting up with the idiot."  
"Hey!" Tony glared. "I'm right here!"  
"Don't be such a baby, Tony," Pepper grinned. "C'mon. We don't have all day. The farm is pretty far out..."  
"OK, OK. I'm practically gone. Meet you in the garage in ten, Loki."  
"I will be there," promised the ex-God of Mischief, wondering what he had just signed up for.

-0-0-0-

An hour and a half later, clambering out of Tony's car as Tony bolted out his seat to look at the damage to the front of his car, Loki knew exactly what he had signed up for – yet another experience he would have rather gone without. _A car accident. It has been a long time in coming_, Loki thought sourly, eyeing the crumpled metal and smoking engines of both vehicles. _These contraptions are death traps. How mortals believe this is a viable way of transportation is beyond me. If I had magic, we would have already returned home with the wreaths by now. _

Loki paused, frowned at the thought, at the small word which had slipped out - _home_ - and fingered the new scar running down from his mouth, remembering Bruce's hand on his shoulder and rush of apologies. The odd conversation he had had about woman with the man. Jane's words. Their shocked exclamations over his punishment in Asgard (_and they don't know the half of it, do they, Loki?_). And that too gave him pause. _When was the last you heard that dark side of yourself speak? Against all expectation, we – I – I have found some kind of peace. It is a home. Not a good home, but one all the same. After all, Asgard was hardly a true home. Perhaps, in having no particular home, I may receive the gift of having many..._

"... Pepper's going to have my head, huh, Loki. Loki? Hey! Loki!"  
"Pardon, Son of Stark," Loki blinked, returning to the very annoying circumstances of the here and now. "What were you blathering on about now?"  
"We're going to have to wait for the car repair shop to pick this piece of shite up. I'm trying to get through to Pepper and Bruce for a quick ride back. No go."  
"Ask JARVIS," Loki scowled.  
"I don't have the suit – and this car isn't equipped with JARVIS yet. Best I can do is call him – but he says no one is in."  
"Suspicious."  
"We have lives, Loki. Unlike you."  
"I have a life, moronic mortal," Loki bit out in reply. "And I would remind you that it is a much longer life than yours. I may be weak now and unable to show you what tender mercies I have planned, but I can assure you that even if you may die suddenly before the last years of my sentence is carried out – I will wreck my vengeance on –" Loki's rant was cut off by a sharp cry from the back of the car which had hit them when Tony had taken the corner a bit too sharply (thanks to ice, he averred much later on).  
"Uhh... hold the thought, Loki," Tony frowned as the driver (who had bizarrely leaned into the backseat of his car instead of inspect the front right away) pulled out from the backseat of the car. "This doesn't seem right –"  
"This entire situation can hardly be termed 'right'," Loki replied irritably. "This is all due to your recklessness. As usual. You are no better than my brother Thor and his ridiculous friends who were little better than half-wits. Perhaps worse than, seeing as they –"  
"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" The driver, a weedy looking young man with a scraggly goatee and watery blue eyes, pulled away from the back and looked over at the two men (or rather, the one man and one god) and began to yell. "Look at what you assholes just did! Now what the fuck am I going to do, huh? She's in effing labour – and –"  
"What? What're you talking about?" Tony staggered through the heavily rutted road which had not been ploughed well enough (which had been at least half of the reason for the accident, that's what he would tell his lawyers later) over to the other side of the car and looked in.

_OH SHIT._

It was a dark, curly-haired young woman, face drawn and white, arms tightening around a very pronounced, very swollen belly. Pregnant belly. Pregnant. Having a baby. Having a baby outside in a car.

_Oh shit. Oh shit. Crap. Crappity-crap. And all other forms of excrement._

"Uhhh..."

Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, philanthropist, playboy et cetera discovered that he didn't quite know what to say.

"Let me see, incomprehensible moron," Loki snapped, stomping over, reaching the young man's side, swinging the door wider to stare down at the mother who was beginning to shriek at them. Massaging the bridge of his nose, Loki shook his head. "You there, woman!"  
"Who the hell are you?" gasped the young woman, clutching her belly again.  
"An unfortunate victim in this nonsensical drama," he snapped back. "Surrounded by fools and about to bring yet another one into this world."  
"KEV!" The girl's voice rose a little hysterically at the end of the short name. "Who the hell is he - and what is he talking about?"  
"This can hardly matter," Loki's eyes ran over the woman's dark clothing. "How long have these pains been upon you."  
"Uh. They started about four hours ago but -"

Four hours? Loki eyed the woman with even more disfavour. Is she possible even more lack-witted than Thor?

"Four hours." He said, voice deadpan as the information sunk in. His fingers nervously ran back through his long hair as he considered what information he could remember of birthing horses. It had been a long time indeed. And human mortals, although little better than animals, had probably different kinds of - Loki exhaled. "This is the worst situation possible indeed, Man of Stark, judging by the... amount of water on her clothing, I would say that the time for birth is near. The silly wench put off her departure until the worst possible hour -"  
"Hey! Ohhh! OH! Ahhh! That - that wasn't my fault!" She whined between deep pants and sharp cries of pain. "I had to wait for Kev. I can't drive - and the buses are canceled - and - and - I thought it wouldn't be a problem - except he was late from work - and now thanks to you and your fucking friend - oh - Kev! - We're not going to make it -"  
"Son of Stark," Loki stared across at Tony's pale face. "Perhaps you should call for a healer or midwife while you are calling for the car repair shop."  
"She can't have the baby out here, dammit!" The young man was now flailing in earnest and the girl had broken down into stormy tears.

Eyeing the two young people with disfavour – and the still stunned Tony Stark – Loki sighed.

"It is hardly my fault," Loki finally had to say. "I was not the one driving. However, perhaps we can find an open home which will allow your wife to rest until such aid comes. Son of Stark, I suggest you aid the mortal out of the car, if you may. While I knock on the house, there," here Loki pointed at the nearest house just five minutes away.

Making his way onto the as yet shovelled walkway, Loki arrived at the tall thin house. It was a grey-white building with wooden slats down the sides and a rickety looking veranda on the front. The steps creaked ominously as he clambered up to the front door and knocked on it. After five minutes, the unadorned, black door eased open to reveal the face of a narrow, grey-haired woman who stared at him unmoved.

"Yes?" she asked.  
"Excuse me," said Loki ungraciously, pushing past her to peer in. The front room looked clean and large enough. Furthermore, the house was warm and rather empty.  
"Excuse me!" frowned the old woman. "This is my home, you cannot just barge in here and –"  
"Many apologies, my lady," Loki turned and backtracked quickly, while flashing her a winning smile, drawing on long forgotten courtesies and what charm he had used to command before – He would not think of it. _Not now._ "I pray for a favour. A young woman and her... husband... are in dire straits. In the road, as you can see –" She stepped out onto the small veranda with him and peered out into the gathering gloom. The two cars, head to head, were a picture worth a thousand words.

"Ohhh..." The old lady softened. "If you just need a place to wait in, I understand –"  
"Ah. I apologize. Again," Loki tipped his head. "The young woman in question has unfortunately miscalculated her biological needs and is in the middle of having a child –"  
"Oh my land! My goodness! Is she going to have it soon soon?"  
"I rather think not, but we shall find out the truth soon enough," Loki said and looked towards the car.  
"You know..." The old woman cocked her head, pursing her lips. "You look familiar – are you some kind of celebrity – or no... Some actor. Shakespeare? You're British, that's for sure but –"

Ignoring the woman's babble, Loki stepped down from the veranda. He could see Stark and the husband were struggling to bear the woman through the snow. Cursing frail mortality, Loki found himself widening the path of snow beneath his feet, lifting the woman up easily and bearing her into the warmth of the common room and onto the couch.

"Did you call the medics?" asked Loki, peering into the woman's face.  
"Doing it now," Tony replied, dialling 911. "But we're really far out and the snow is pretty bad."  
"We need to see how soon it will come."  
"How can we do that?" asked the young father-to-be.  
"Hmmm..." Loki ran his fingers through his wild hair distractedly. "I have delivered a horse's foal before. Perhaps..." Recalling the hot, bloody, heady moment in the stables when he and the horse master had helped deliver Koramyn's foal. "Straw."  
"Miranda is not going to lay on straw!" The young man glared down at Loki.

Loki shook his head and heaved a high, refraining from banging his head against the wall. _Ignorant, insolent mortals. I should leave you two to die here..._

"No. Straw was bedding for the horse. We will need a bedding for her to lie on."  
"Oh."  
"I've a small mattress I can pull down," said the woman from somewhere behind him.  
"I'll get on it," Tony disappeared.

For an insane moment, Loki was glad that there was at least one other rational being in the room. Then he remembered who he was thinking about.

"And hot water and towelling." Loki continued on, recalling the faint details. It had happened at least fifteen hundred years previously. There had been water and sacking. Sacking was not suitable for frail humans. _Towels however..._

"Follow me, young man," said the old woman, disappearing into some nether room, pulling the father-to-be behind her. "I'll put some towels in the dryer. You get my kettles boiling."  
"You will need to change," Loki sighed, eyeing the softly groaning young woman. "Is this your first time?"  
"Y-yes," whispered the girl.

_A girl_, he sighed to himself. _How old is she? Twenty? If that. Of course it is her first time, Loki. The Norns could not give you something so easy as a mature woman who understands what this will entail._

"I... see..." Loki rubbed his eyes, then glanced at the small bag her husband had put beside her. "What is in there? Your husband said it had some items?"  
"He's not my husband," she huffed. "They're coming faster. The contractions, I mean."  
"Yes. I can see that. Not your husband?" Loki's eyebrows rose. "So you are his wench? So was this a misfortune conception?"  
"What?" The girl stared at Loki blankly. "You're weird – ow! Oooohhhh! That was – that was – not good! He's my boyfriend, idiot! We love each other. We'll get married. Oh! Ow! DAMN IT! Eventually. We'll get married eventually."  
"You are the idiot," snapped Loki in return. "Bearing a man's child with no certainty of support!"  
"Where do you come from? The Dark Ages?" yelled back the girl.

_At least she has spine_, Loki grimaced as the girl's fingers dug into his shoulders. _Of a sort. Granted she does not know who I am... still..._

"Creatures such as you have no concept – Never mind. What is in the bag, woman?"  
"My pajamas and a few things the nurse told me... And the name's Miranda. Oh damn, oh – ow! Aaahhhhhhhh!..." A moment of heavy panting. "This is so effed up." She was sniffling. Again.

Loki frowned. A girl having a baby was something he did not want to deal with. A crying girl was even worse.

"You can do this," Loki glared at the girl sternly, heartened by the fact that the girl responded to his callousness with a fury of her own.

Stark blundered into the room and within minutes, there a small amount of pandemonium as the mattress was settled, covered with black crinkly material (garbage bags, Stark said) and then a soft sheet that would be discarded at the end. The young woman's husband reappeared to help her into her loose night undergarments which Loki eyed with disfavour. A garish red and black dotted affair.

_Well_, he shrugged. _At least the blood stains will not show. As much._

Glancing at the clock, Tony realized that one hour had already passed since the whole accident. It had gone by in a flurry of activity and preparation. Pillows had been brought. The young woman was propped up on a few and her husband also held her upright, as she lay back, legs spread and bent upwards, so Loki could have the honour of watching the baby's progress. Tony was trying to call more people, genuinely panicking.

"Bruce, this is Tony. I need you to get on. Like right now. I'm stuck in a technology-less place – like the freaking medieval times or something. A spinster's house. Doesn't have internet. Nothing. It's worse than Asgard. I lie. There's a TV. And, we have a woman having a baby. In a house. The house. The spinster's house. Well, at least it's not in the car, but we need help. Like... how do we know if it's going to come soon or not – and the paramedics are probably going to take ages getting here –"

BEEEEEEP.

"JARVIS!"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Have you been able to raise anyone?"  
"So far, only SHIELD is responding. Mr. Barton and Miss Romanoff are on a mission. I could notify Fury."  
"Thanks, JARVIS. That's what I need. An invisible airship hovering over a house having a baby."  
"Houses do not have babies, sir."  
"You know what I mean. OK. Um. Forget Fury. Keep trying to get Bruce. And call me back in five with stuff we need for babies. OK?"  
"Very well, sir."  
"Well?" asked the older woman, who was hovering by the door, arms full of warm towelling.  
"I don't know. I don't know." Tony took the towelling and brought them over to Loki, who seemed to be staring down the woman's spread legs with wide green eyes, horrified and entranced at the same time. "Uhhhhh..." Tony's brown eyes, following Loki's eyes, widened even more. He nearly dropped the towelling. "Hey. You know. It's coming back to me. Mrs. Rackenhurst in Biology. The... um... It's supposed to get bigger for, uh, the baby."  
"That much is obvious," Loki replied, taking the towelling and spreading one below. "You get the warm water?"  
"On the way. And JARVIS will call with more details – and – oh, this is him. JARVIS? You get Bruce?"  
"He was at the clinic. I managed to contact him through the staff. He will try to get to your address. However, I do not hold much hope seeing as traffic has worsened thanks to the most recent snowfall."  
"Great. OK. Any other news. You got that research done, right?"  
"Of course," JARVIS replied, miffed. "The following are the bare minimum requirements for a safe and healthy birth. Towels."  
"Check."  
"Warm water. These are to be used for cleaning the mother and baby during and after the birthing."  
"Yes. Right."  
"Be certain to have many towels."  
"We need more towels," Tony whispered to their muttering hostess. "Bring 'em all out – we'll, um, buy you new ones. No problem."  
"Very well," said the spinster (a little disbelievingly), she moved away muttering to herself. "Come on, Irma. Where did you see them before... That couldn't be... no no no..."  
"Alright. Towels. Check. Lots of them. Check. Warm water. Check. Anything else?"  
"Sewing thread, a sterilized scissors or sharp knife."  
"Uhhh... what?"  
"The mother will no doubt tear in the process –"  
"Oh shit. Damn. I hope the paramedics are there before then." Tony ran his fingers through his hair while he darted into the kitchen and began to pull several drawers open before finding some knives and a scissors. "Sterilize as in throw in boiling water?" Wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder, Tony ran hot water, filled up a small pot, pushed it onto the electric stove, switched it on while pouring liberal amounts of salt into the water and then tossed the knives and scissors in. "OK. Got it."  
"According to my information, you should squeeze the cord in the newborn's direction so as to give the blood to the baby. This must be done before cutting it."  
"Uh. How long should the cord be?"  
"Around ten centimetres from the baby."  
"OK. Ten centimetres. You hear that, Loki?"  
"Of course not," Loki shot back, shoulders almost vibrating with tension as the young woman's cries began to escalate.  
"We need to cut the baby's cord."  
"Oh. I knew that. Similar to a horse," Loki relaxed a bit. "This may not be as impossible as I had thought."  
"I'm surprised you haven't said something about magic before now."

Loki gave Tony a look before returning to his gaze. Another hour passed by, filled with talk and sporadic counting to check the cycle of pain. Irma turned on her small television (Tony was genuinely surprised it wasn't black and white) to watch the weather conditions. It was, if possible, looking worse. Another half an hour passed by. The girl had been in labour now for six hours or so. If the calculations were correct, the baby could arrive soon.

_The accident probably spurred on the entire process_, Loki eyed the tired girl thoughtfully. _A blessing in disguise? Perhaps. More like a curse. Now the Son of Stark and I have the dubious honour of ushering in yet another insignificant being into the Nine Realms. _

The contractions were coming fairly frequently now. Going by the clock which Tony had snatched on the wall and had propped up on the cushions of the couch, almost every two minutes. And it was getting more and more frequent. Watching the woman's hands clenching and un-clenching her night clothes, Loki wondered if this was all just one incredible vision or dream. Or someone was toying with his mind. _Not Tha – no, not him. He would never come up with something so bizarrely strange as this. _

"Kev, Kev," she was panting. "It hurts – We're never doing this again. Damn it. Oh. Shit. You – ohhhhhhhh! You – you just try – ooooooooohhhhh! Awwwghhhhhh!"  
"Mira, Mira, you're doing great!" Kev's face was as pale as his wife and even though he wasn't pushing out a baby, he seemed to be as sweaty and freaked out as the mother. "How do you feel?"

Mira punched him, spewing a bunch of curses.

"I'M PUSHING A SMALL WATERMELON OUT OF MY VAGINA! HOW THE HELL DO YOU THINK I FEEL, MORON?" She screamed, veins standing out along her thin neck and strained forehead muscles, before sagging back, panting. For a moment, it seemed like she had blacked out – and there was a moment's silence before she started awake and began to moan again.

Loki shook his head. _This woman is a fool to bear a child for such a base specimen. This child is going to lack any sense or intelligence with parents such as these. This is madness. I should just walk out of here and let the Man of Iron to deal with this – or the medics. Where are they? What kind of world is this with no way to relieve – _Loki's thoughts were cut off by another long drawn out wail from the young mother.

"OOOOHHHH! OH! DAMN! That was bad – that was – something's – I need –"  
"She might be wanting to push," Tony said, reappearing with the knives and scissors and thread (courtesy of their kooky hostess). Phone still wedged between his shoulder and ear. "Tell her to push. JARVIS says she might want to push now."  
"You can say it yourself," Loki frowned. Then in a bit louder voice, cutting through the woman's cries. "Push, woman!"  
"Uhhh... Spread her legs out further. She might..."

Loki, as gently as he knew, pushed the woman's legs a bit further open – and then all hell broke loose. By now the contractions were close upon each other, and the fascinated onlookers (Tony, Irma and Loki) couldn't help but notice that something was indeed going to be born in that room. Without realizing it, Loki's hands tightened around the young woman's bony kneecaps, as he began to yell in response.

"Keep pushing!" He frowned. "It needs to get out sometime today, wench!"  
"I'M NOT A WENCH, YOU ASSHOLE! AND STOP TRYING TO BREAK MY KNEES!" She screamed back. Loki eased a little on her knees in response, but it didn't stop her from continuing to yell. "SHUT THE HELL UP! I'M TRYING! AHHHHHH! Ah. Oh!"  
"You're doing fine, dear," Kev whispered, stroking his not-wife's hair back. "You're a champ."  
"CHAMP? CHAMP?! WHEN I GET UP FROM THIS, I'M GOING TO TEAR YOUR BALLS OFF AND THEN WE'LL SEE WHO'S THE CHAMP?!"  
"Feisty," Loki mumbled.  
"SHUT THE HELL UP! YOU'LL BE NEXT!"  
"Oh! I know – I know – I know!" Irma was bouncing about somewhere in the back of the room. "You're Howard Stark's boy – Anthony Stark."  
"WHAT THE – WHAT – WHAT – WHAT THE HELL IS SHE TALKING ABOUT KEVVVVVV!"  
"Never mind, love. It's fine. Our baby's just that awesome. Tony Stark is –"

Kev winced as his not-wife's fist connected with his leg and then her fingers spread out and began to squeeze painfully.

"TONY STARK CAN GO TO HELL! LET'S SEE IF HE CAN PUSH A BABY –"  
"Well, not the right gender to begin with –" Tony caught sight of Mira's wide, wild eyes and gulped. "OK. Shutting up now."  
"Small mercies," Loki grumbled.  
"AAHHH! OOH! OH!"  
"Keep pushing!" Loki encouraged her. "You are doing well! Push! Push!"

By now, the girl was visibly exhausted, but somehow, (and it seemed a miracle to Tony and everyone else), her body seemed to understand. Listening to Loki's calm voice and puffing in and out, the girl surrendered to the pain and kept pushing.

"JARVIS says that she should keep pushing until we see a head. You see a head down there?"  
"I believe so," was Loki's calm reply.  
"WHAT DID HE SAY?"  
"They can see the head, love," Kev squeezed his wife's shoulders, settling her closer, knowing that he may never be able to walk again thanks to the death grip his girlfriend had on his thigh muscles. "Keep pushing!"  
"OF COURSE I'M PUSHING! JUST GET THE DAMN THING OUT! OR I"LL GET DOWN THERE AND PULL IT OUT MYSELF DAMMIT!"  
"SILENCE, TERMAGENT, AND PUSH BY ALL THAT IS SACRED!" Loki found himself yelling back at the girl, leaning forward between her legs. "OR I WILL REACH IN AND TEAR THE BABE OUT MYSELF!"  
"LOKI!" Tony yelled at the ex-God. "I might not know much about birthing, but that definitely isn't –"  
"FUCK YOU!" The young girl's hand flew up slapping Loki hard along the cheek, but before he could reply, Mira's legs and body quivered with another giant contraction.  
"PUSH! PUSH!" Loki once again shouted with very little coherency, relieved to see the head now definitely pushing out. "It's coming! Keep pushing!"  
"JARVIS says we should call it crowning," Tony said.  
"JARVIS CAN GO TO HELHEIM!" Loki snarled back.  
"TO HELL WITH IT! TEAR THE FUCKING THING OUT! NOW! AND I MEAN IT!"  
"Uh. JARVIS says we may need to cut the vagina just a bit," Tony's voice creaked a bit with the strain.  
"WHAT?" Kev's face blanched even more (if possible). "What the heck are you talking about?"  
"It's, um, standard procedure," Tony said. "Sometimes the mom needs help. That or we use forceps. You have forceps? No? Well. Then, there you go. Too bad we don't have your magic, Loki. We'll need to just make a small incision. You can do it, Loki. I know you can do it. Irma." Tony turned to the old spinster who was hovering behind him. He moved two towels over and threw them in the laundry basket and laid out two fresh ones. "Can you get the rest of the towels in the dryer?"  
"Sure, dear," Irma scuttled off.

Loki and Miranada and Kevin seemed to be in a world of their own. Tony's eyes watched them closely, as Loki, expertly (_too expertly, really_, Tony bit his lip) handled the small, sharp, paring knife he had chosen, carefully cutting a little of the skin and ignoring the renewed curses and name calling falling from the new mother's lips. Setting it aside, Loki resumed his position, keeping an eye on the blood. _If there was too much blood loss... If the mother dies, what will that mean then? It is just one small blot on the rest of red in my ledger. But if this babe is borne, then perhaps, that is one small balance._ Trying to shove down rising nausea, Loki resumed his loud encouragement.

With a high, piercing scream from the young mother, the baby seemed to be pushed out even further than before, the small incision tearing even more. Loki, biting down hard on his lip, drawing blood, winced. And then, the head was out. For a moment, it was hard to even take in – but Tony was there, babbling over his shoulder about turning the baby and cleaning it's face or something. As if a puppet, Loki followed the instructions as best as he could, feeling like his usually graceful fingers were nothing but butter – or sausages – something unwieldy and useless. Small shoulders followed. And then, the rest, so easily it seemed a miracle compared to the struggle from before.

The baby was crying now. The mother crying. The father was crying. And cradling the small body in his hands, his hands now covered with blood (_but not the blood of death – living blood – a living thing in his hands. A new living thing._) - and something splashed off the baby's forehead.

He was crying.

_By the Norns. _First the music recital. Now this.

Loki found it difficult then to focus. His shoulders and body was shaking as the tension of the moment ran through him. The mother was now slumped against the new father, face slack and still wet with tears, then slowly growing more happy as post-birth euphoria set in. Her blue-grey eyes met Loki's own in a quiet moment of understanding. The baby was screaming now – a thin, frail sound – but that was good, Tony was saying.

"It's alive," the genius kept saying over and over again. "It's alive. We did it!"

_We did nothing_, Loki thought._ She did it all, really._ But he knew what Tony meant.

"And! And it's a boy! You guys got a boy! Wow! A boy! That's amazing!" Tony kept babbling, eyes wide and shining. "He looks... well, he looks squished – but JARVIS says that's fine. The head will kinda... settle or puff out or whatever later."

A soft blanket was pressed into his hands and he gingerly and loosely wrapped up the wriggling baby, handing it up to the mother. Remembering Tony's earlier instruction, Loki measured, appropriately squeezed and then cut the cord. Irma and Tony cleared things away. A few photos were taken courtesy of the Starkphone. Loki dealt with the rest of the sewing and cleaning. Miranda didn't seem to notice. _Human women were strange_, he concluded. _That or the euphoria of holding the child had overcome the rational centres of her brain. But, that is understandable, I suppose. _

The placenta arrived a few minutes later and was set aside into a small pot by Loki to the consternation of Irma and Tony.

"You never know," Loki explained. "There are great magicks that can be highly effective –"  
"No magicking around here," Tony waved a finger. "And you can't do magic."  
"Not I," agreed Loki, tiredly, wanting to lay his head on Miranda's knee but knowing she'd probably kick him or something. "But even ignorant weaklings such as yourself have Midgardian traditions concerning the disposal of such things. And there is some magic still in the – Let it be."

Still, after Miranda and Kevin finished communing with their child, after Mira fed the baby just a little with a pale breast (which was covered after a few seconds for decency's sake by another blanket, thanks to Loki), after Miranda was led away to shower and left Loki and Tony to swab down the new baby, Loki traced a small protection symbol in blood on the left heel of the small baby boy.

"What's that for?" asked Tony.  
"Protection," Loki said. "And luck."  
"It's already lucky," Tony smiled then at Loki. "He had you and me for midwives. Can't get much better than that."  
"You sincerely believe that?" Loki asked, disbelievingly. "Your enemy, the God of Mischief and Lies and Chaos is fit to herald a new life into this world?"  
"Well..." Tony paused then nodded. "Yeah. I think it's cool. Don't you?"  
"I do not know. But it does seem... alarmingly right."  
"You're good at this. Birth number two under your belt. A horse. A baby. Might want to try something else next. A dog? Cat? Elephant? You know, you could get a job doing this. Need to improve the bedside manner, of course – but otherwise, pretty spot on."  
"Stark," Loki sighed. "Can you not still your chatter for one second?"  
"Not really. I'm so – you know – on edge. Where's the car repair shop, huh?" Tony peered out the window. "Damn. It's been snowing. Again. Now pulling the car out will be twice as difficult – Bruce will never get here at this rate. I'll call JARVIS and get him to go home."

A small diaper was found in the bag and with JARVIS's help and a small YouTube video, was gently placed on the baby's bottom and it was bundled a little tighter. The mother, emerging from the shower, slipped into one of Irma's long sleeved shirts (big but comfortable) and some baggy jogging pants from the Eighties. The makeshift bed was stripped down and refreshed, Tony promising to replace all of Irma's bedding and towel sets. This time, Irma believed him.

Propped up on pillows, her baby cradled in her arms again, Miranda looked more and more like the usual form of pathetic human being and less like a wild animal. It was pleasing. Obviously the young (probably woefully uneducated) girl had no clue as to how to parent (no more than her irresponsible partner), but it seemed that she loved the little demon. _Child. Demon child. _

"He's beautiful," the girl sighed. "Isn't he beautiful?"

Loki stared at the red face, the squeezed up eyes, the squashed, fragile head, the slit of the mouth and the dark hair curling on top.

"Not particularly." He paused and then amended. "He looks no worse than you lot."  
"Gosh, you sound like an idiot all the time," sighed Miranda.  
"So, what do you think, Mira? Does he look like Robert to you?"  
"I think so," Mira sighed. "Dad would have loved him to bits."  
"Where is your father?" asked Tony, curiously. "Don't you have family?"

Miranda sighed and glanced at Kevin, shifted the baby and then glanced at the two men.

"Well, my dad died. My mom got remarried – we aren't really talking. It's a long story. But, I moved to New York and met Kev and stuff. I just didn't want to stay stuck in Hickville all my life, you know?"  
"I hear you," said Tony, shrugging. "That's common among tons of young people."  
"Yeah, I guess."  
"I'll look after the both of you," Kev promised, giving Miranda a short kiss.

_You had better_, Loki thought darkly. Miranda just hmmed back at her mate and leaned against his shoulder. Then, there was a pounding on the door – Irma shuffled her way to the front of the door, muttering some more to herself.

"Oh wait... is that..." Tony moved to the door as well.

It was. The paramedics. A good twenty minutes late. Apologetic. Traffic. Snow. Ploughs couldn't keep up with the snow. Yada yada yada.

"And let's see the new mother," said a lady in a black uniform, pulling over a medical kit that looked comfortingly like Bruce's. "How're you feeling, sweetie?"  
"Amazing," Miranda smiled back tiredly. "I had the best help in the world. The best doctors anyone could ask for, really."  
"Really," smiled the woman humorously, glancing at the two men who sat the couch, gazing at the baby and the mom with wide eyes.  
"No, really," Miranda repeated, eyes suddenly sharp. "They rocked."  
"You did most of the work," Loki had to point out.  
"Hey," the second paramedic, a young, Indian woman, turned in confusion to her coworker, a pale, young man. "Isn't that... LOKI?"  
"LOKI!" Irma. "I KNEW I had seen him somewhere before. I thought he was an actor or something – ah. Well. Loki! Criminal Watch, of course. That's where I saw it. Goodness me. He made for a great midwife. Must be an alien thing. Want some tea?"  
"Loki," the young mother's eyes widened, her arms tightening around her child unconsciously.

Kevin froze. Everyone froze. Loki didn't move a muscle, his fingers twined together tightened and his green eyed gaze dropped to the floor, to glare at his shoes. His shoes were still on – and there was some blood caked in the corners of his thumbnails. He frowned.

"Loki," Mira repeated. "My baby was... saved by Loki! Loki cried over my baby! Kev! No one's going to be believe this!"  
"I can't believe it," Kev repeated blankly.  
"I can't either," said the third paramedic.  
"Well, it happened," Loki sniffed. "Do not make the mistake of thinking that it will happen twice."  
"It's OK," Mira said, softly, leaning forward to place a small hand on Loki's wrist. "Thank you."  
"She's thanking a criminal –"  
"Shut up, Damien," the Indian girl rolled her eyes.  
"He's not a criminal! He's on parole, isn't he?" Kevin was asking now.  
"Parole?" Loki blinked.  
"He is," Tony said quickly. "I'll explain later, Loki. Guys, calm down. Loki's... well, he's on the straight and narrow. More or less. More than less. Or whatever. Hahaha. OK. So. Baby's OK?"  
"Seems so," said the senior paramedic, leaning back. "Loki or no, this was a good birth. You boys did good. I'll check the new mother and we'll take everyone back to the hospital for shots and tests, OK?"  
"This is great," Kev said, relieved.  
"Have a name for it yet?" asked Damien, eyeing Loki but not saying anything more. Thankfully.  
"Well. Robert. Rob." Kevin smiled. "And maybe, we could give it two middle names."  
"That is an august name for such a small personage," sniffed Loki. "Puffing its ego already, I see. Typical –"  
"Oh," Miranda smiled then. "Kev. That's... perfect. Robert Loki Anthony Hollins."  
"That is a mouthful," Loki managed to say, rising to his feet, face creased into a sharp smile. "You may regret naming it after me, however. I bring nothing but bad luck."  
"Hear, hear," Tony agreed absently. Pole-axed. _A baby. Named after me! Robert Loki Anthony Hollins. Pepper and I – we could have a baby – we could call it Anthony too. This – this baby. An amazing creation. Organic and just as complex as anything I crafted. Robert Loki Anthony Hollins. Loki Anthony._ "You might as well call it Lucifer or Loser or something like that –"

_Oh crap_. Tony's brown eyes jerked up guiltily, barely meeting Loki's hurt green ones before Loki jerked away, pushed past Damien and slammed out of the house._ I shouldn't have said that... What were you thinking, Anthony Stark? He imagined himself as Pepper. You weren't thinking. As usual. _

"What the hell were you thinking?" Miranda lobbed a small cushion at Tony's head. "Go out and apologize, asshole!"  
"Sorry, sorry. Uh. Gotta go. Got an ex-God of Mischief to – um – well – yes. See you, uh, later."  
"Tell him thank you, OK? Remember that!"  
"Yeah, yeah." Tony's phone was ringing. "Listen, we'll track you down and I'll make sure Loki comes round. I'm sure he'd be interested in how little Robbie is doing. OK. Um. Bye. Good luck!"

Answering the phone, Tony reached up for his coat. It was Bruce. Apparently Happy and Bruce in some four-wheel drive monstrosity, on their way to save their friends. After assuring the scientist that the mother, the baby, the father and Loki (and yes, also he) was alright, Tony managed to hang up, snagging his scarf and hat before plunging out into the dark. His eyes adjusted to the dim light of the street lamps – and sure enough, there was Loki, standing at the end of the short walkway. For a moment, he said nothing, merely contenting himself with standing there beside Loki.

Then: "She said thank you. Again."

No reply. Loki was looking off into the distance absently. Far away. Face blank. Turning red and then blue in the silent whirling lights of the ambulance now parked at the entrance of the driveway. Head tilted away. Shoulders tense once again. Tony cursed himself and his thoughtlessness again.

"I told her we'd find her and visit her. I said you'd come around too."  
"Typical Stark attitude," Loki finally said. "Assuming I will come at your beck and call."  
"And yet you do. OK. You don't. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. What I just said – and what I said before. And what I said before today."  
"You do not have to apologize, Son of Stark. I am, after all, a lowly –"  
"Loki. You are not – not whatever you think you are – a monster – or nothing or pathetic or lowly. Today. Today, you held a child. You helped to bring something small and full of life into this world. I stood there, wringing my hands and babbling like an idiot."  
"Babbling yes. But at least you were babbling useful things," Loki admitted. "We..."  
"We worked well together," Tony finished his sentence. "And you know, that was awesome. If me and my big mouth don't get in the way, I hope we can do it again one day."  
"Your large maw which is always filled with incomprehensible garbage?" Loki said, turning then to look in amusement down at the short man.  
"Yeah. That too."  
"Why the apologies, Man of Iron? Why now?"  
"Well... I'd been meaning to since the whole skating thing last week."  
"The skating thing," echoed Loki, rubbing at the stitches which still remained at the corner of his mouth. They would be removed two days hence and it would be nothing but a memory to be laughed at.  
"Yes. Well, I should have apologized even before then. I just... It's taken me a bit to see how I'm not... being fair. Or right. Kicking a guy when he's already down, you know. Not that – wait – not that you need pity, Loki. You're still a tough son of a gun." Loki subsided and his fists unclenched. "But, um, second chances, right? And I wanted to help, I really did. But you know how it is. I get bored. I get nervous too. Things spew out – Pepper and Rhodey deal with it all the time."  
"Now, them, I pity," Loki mumbled.  
"So, I get carried away."  
"To put it mildly. But wit is something that is difficult to cultivate. You have an abundance of it. It is merely that at times your wit denigrates to something else."  
"Yes. So. Let's figure out a way for you to tell me that I stepped over the bounds, as it were."  
"Hm."

Pause.

"A safe word," Tony snapped his fingers and grinned at Loki's blank expression. "It's for people who are into BDSM. You know, bondage." No response. "It's a sex thing."  
"It is always a sex thing with you, Stark," Loki smirked then.  
"Shut up," Tony rolled his eyes. "We'll set up a word or phrase, so when you say it, I'll shut my big mouth up."  
"Or I could just say 'Silence, fool'..."  
"No, no, no. Something that will make me realize that it's serious."  
"When I say 'Silence, fool', you do not believe me serious? You believe this will work?" Loki asked. "I have rarely heard something so... inane."  
"But it could work. We should try."  
"... Very well," Loki nodded. "I must think of something to say to you as a code. Hm."  
"Think of something ridiculous."  
"I am thinking."

Pause.

"Balls of Fury." Tony suggested.  
"No.  
"It's a pun!"  
"Aha. Aha." Loki coughed dryly.  
"Need to work on that laughter, Reindeer Games. OK. Um. Hawkeye's shaft."  
"Absolutely not, Stark."  
"Never thought about it Clint's obsession with projectiles? I guess Asgard isn't into Freud. Pity. It'd explain a lot."  
"Just... no..." Loki sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.  
"Fine," Tony suggested. "Odin's pyjamas."  
"That one isn't so bad."  
"Good. Are they funny?"  
"What are funny?"  
"Odin's pyjamas."  
"Not particularly. Although, I will have you know that for one week they were pink thanks to a small error in judgement on my part concerning a magical spell."  
"Hahahaha, that's awesome," Tony chuckled. "Odin's PJ's it is."

For a while there was a silence and then Tony stirred again.

"Bruce and Happy are on their way."  
"Ah. Good news."

More silence. The falling snow thickened a little, turning everything within the lamplight a tan brown. The rest of the world lay in darkness, nothing seeming to exist beyond the circles of light, shrouded in fog and whiteness. Standing there, face cast into shadow as he stood on the edge of the lamplight, Loki seemed to return to his brooding, eyes far away in some kind of memory. Tony hoped it wasn't turning into a flashback.

"I was thinking of when I held the babe in my hands," Loki's voice finally broke the soft silence. His voice seemed muffled and rather quiet. Tony refrained from saying anything, remembering Pepper's advice.

_Just listen to him, Tony. Listen and maybe you can understand..._

"It was so small. Fragile. Weak. It did not deserve to live. And yet, I could not put it out of its misery. Not even to save it from the misery I know it will undergo."

Tony opened his mouth. Shut it. Waited.

"I felt... something then," Loki was frowning now. At his feet. Scowling blackly. "A desire to protect it. A desire to let it have a chance." He sighed heavily. "All this time, since the time my Fa – since Odin told me the truth of the matter – the truth of who I was, I could not believe him. How could he pick up a babe and bear it away so easily, if not for some grand purpose which obviously came to nothing?"

A pause.

"I did not believe his words when he spoke to me of the time he discovered me alone and crying – abandoned in some temple. Left to die, he said. I did not believe that he looked upon me with such a simple emotion as compassion. And yet, now..."

Another pause. Longer. Loki looked away then, green eyes glittering.

"If he speaks the truth, if that is the truth, I can believe it now." Loki glanced at Tony. "Laugh at my weakness, mortal. How the great God of Mischief, Lies and Chaos has been brought low by the lowliest and smallest of sentient creatures in the Nine Realms."  
"We've got a problem, Loki. 'Cause I can't do that," Tony smiled, letting Loki see the emotion in his heart, in his eyes. "There is nothing we can mock tonight. You and I, we saw a miracle happen before our eyes – motherhood. There is nothing weak about bringing life into this world – nor in striving to keep it alive. Our work, our compassion – these things made us stronger and better... don't you think?"  
"Perhaps," Loki looked away then, obviously overcome once again.

Tony chuckled to himself, shaking his head. _Pepper, you are right. My instincts were right. Reindeer Games is the softest softie in the bunch. _

"Think you'll talk to your dad about it, ever?" asked Tony delicately.  
"I do not know." Loki shrugged, back still turned to the Iron Man. "Ah. That is our transportation, I believe."

With that, the two men drew apart, thankful that their own thoughts could be pushed away as they dealt with the remaining problem of the two damaged vehicles._ It seems so long ago,_ Loki thought. _So long ago that I clambered out of the vehicle, sniping at the Son of Stark. In such short hours, I feel so different. And the Son of Stark feels the same, I think. _

-0-0-0-

The next evening, Pepper took Loki out for a celebratory cake pops at Starbucks on the way to another charity she was checking up on. As usual, Loki found her company relaxing and of course, a chance to eat cake pops was not something to refuse. While waiting for her to finish speaking with the community coordinator, who was stationed in a draughty gym at the back of a "church", Loki found himself swept up in a small celebration complete with carolling and hot chocolate. He never could say no to the hot chocolate, and before he knew it, Loki was walking past the small pageant a few people had set up, curious to see what this whole thing was about.

Strange folks in outlandish garb. Towelling and sheets tied to the head with rough rope. Men carrying wooden staffs and herding children covered in white fluff. Sheep, if you went by the bleating emerging from them. Loki's sneer fell away when he peered into the small hay-stuffed box. A small baby bundled up. It was a dark-skinned child, but it brought to mind something else so similar but different.

A squirming, wet, sticky bloody creature. Not a creature. Not a thing. Loki could sense the presence of life within it. Knew that inside that squished, new body was housed a small intelligence which would grow and one day become a reasoning adult. Would have its own children. Would continue the race of the Midgardians. Each short life. Precious despite it's short-lived years. Precious perhaps because of it's short-lived nature.

_Robert Loki Anthony Hollins._

Why did he not sense the flames of life around him when he first arrived? What was so different about the world now that he looked away from a tiny baby? What kind of magic had the child wrought on him?

His fingers, lingering on the edge of the manger, considered the mystery. The answer did not come, but something certain did form in his mind.

_I must speak with Mother._

* * *

**Loki and Tony made big steps today. Nothing like a baby to fix things.  
**

**Well. Maybe. This might all be just a touch unrealistic, huh. Hm. Well. That's fanfic for you. I guess.  
**

**I'm the eldest of 10 kids. My mom had one baby standing up. Between myself (the eldest) and the youngest there is 24 years or so. So you can imagine how I hate the idea of babies and having babies (the last 5 or 6 felt like my own babies). Not that I was there for the birthing part, nor did my Mom talk about birthing with me much/at all. But I had to deal with tons (and tried to get out of it). Plus, carrying my bros, I got mistaken for being a teen mom thing fairly often. Even worse, once I was mistaken for my Mom herself! Craziness. So now. I don't like holding babies. Still. Babies have their own magic.  
**

**Goes well with Christmas. 'Cause of Jesus and stuff.  
**

**At least, I think so.  
**

**What do you think? Give me a shout!**_  
_

**NEXT UP: Mistletoe. Carolling. Egg Nog. Shovelling. Stuff.  
**


	32. When You Were Mine

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Made some edits to chapter 30 and 31! Be sure to check it out – it's not big, but I just had to make a few small changes – for internal plot coherency.**

**THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS! YOU ROCK! **

**Lots of talking in this chappie – some necessary character development and the introduction of the next part of the plot, which, if you've been noticing it, has cropped up a couple times already!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 32  
When You Were Mine

"I know this shouldn't be a lonely time  
But there were Christmases when I didn't wonder how you are tonight  
Cause there were Christmases when you were mine  
You were mine"  
("Christmases When You Were Mine" - sung by Taylor Swift)

_The night before..._

Tony and Loki did not check the time when they finally stumbled into Stark Tower, ushered by a concerned Bruce and Happy. Without further words, faces drained of colour and energy, the two stumbled into their respective rooms mumbling something that sounded like 'good night' and then into bed. Pepper, who had returned to discover that the wreaths and Tony had been waylaid by a pregnant woman, was waiting in the living room, when Bruce wandered in, followed by a curious Thor and Jane.

"Did you tell Loki and Tony about the Man of Fury's summons?" asked Thor, his quiet voice clashing mutely with Pepper's "Is the baby OK?"  
"No and yes," Bruce eased back. "The paramedics just beat me to it – but the baby had already arrived. Don't know how – they said nothing the entire trip home, which is, you know, just another Christmas miracle I had never expected. Tony. Quiet. The entire ride home. Sitting next to Loki. Do you know how rare that is? They looked exhausted."  
"So they have already retired for the evening," Thor said. "Perhaps I should look in on Loki –"  
"I wouldn't bother," Bruce smiled. "I think he'll be too exhausted for strong REM cycles. I mean," he paused, as Steve came running out of the elevator. "He won't have dreams tonight, I should think. Ah. Steve's got back. With news. Finally. What did Fury want now?"  
"Tony up?"  
"Sorry, Steve. I'm afraid not. But you could catch us up or something and I could talk to him tomorrow morning in the lab."  
"Well, it's not that big of a deal anyways," Steve scratched his head. "I don't know why Loki can't know either, seeing as he's living with us and is, out of all of us, excepting Jane and Pepper, the weakest. Or the least defensible. Or something like that. Even Jane and Pepper could shoot a gun or hit their attackers. I don't like this whole business of keeping Loki in the dark."  
"Keeping Loki in the dark?" Thor asked, voice rising a little.  
"Know what?" Jane asked, her hand in Thor's hand.  
"It's nothing to worry over, I suppose," sighed Steve. "But still... Natasha and Clint have been going on these short reconnaissance missions, you see. They're following some kind of paper trail for mechanical parts."  
"Mechanical parts?" echoed Thor.  
"Metal pieces," Jane translated. "But that doesn't ring a bell for me. Should it?"  
"Who is it this time? Doctor Doom?" Pepper sighed. "Magneto? Doctor Octopus?"  
"We aren't sure," Steve shrugged. "All I'm supposed to say is that we should keep an eye out for any activity, keep on our guard, keep Loki out of trouble, keep our Christmas peaceful – and Bruce, there's a folder here with some intel that Fury would like Tony to check out."  
"OK," Bruce nodded, taking the manila folder and tucking it away under his arm. "Will do. So, we'll just do what we always do – just a bit more carefully. No problem."  
"Tony isn't going to be happy," Pepper sighed.  
"Neither is Loki," agreed Thor.  
"Maybe you should just warn him about the increased security measures that Tony will no doubt erect in preparation," Steve said. "Tell him to keep his head down. Meanwhile, it's business as usual."  
"While Clint and Natasha run around and play detective."  
"Until then, nothing happens. Except whatever Pepper has on her schedule."  
"Just singing some carolling and mistletoe hanging for tomorrow," Pepper shook her head. "Nothing outside. The snow isn't very conducive for long distance travel."  
"I hear you," sighed Steve. "I just put the bike in for wintering. Can't wait for spring already."  
"And Son of Barton and Romanoff's Daughter?" asked Thor.  
"Um, they'll return tomorrow lunch time. If there's new news, we'll know."  
"We hope." Bruce nodded with a grimace. Then moved away. "Right, I'm off to bed. See you then."

He walked off, and after a few minutes was followed by Steve and Pepper, leaving Thor and Jane alone. For a moment, they relaxed in silence on the couch, enjoying the sound of the fake fireplace which had been thrown up on the large flatscreen TV. Jane, snuggling into Thor's broad shoulder, wondered if Loki had really managed to help birth a baby. For a few seconds, there was guilt for comandeering Thor and taking them away for a much-needed one-on-one time at one of her newest, favourite haunts in New York – a small, old-fashioned out of the way coffee pub.

_How long did we sit there, just us two? _She wondered. _For hours. While poor Loki was stuck with Tony... and a pregnant lady. Well, I'll just have to apologize – and he'll probably be nasty __about it. On the other hand, he might not have wanted Thor there... _

"Thor," she whispered.  
"Hm."  
"Does Loki... like me – just a little?"  
"Should it matter?" asked Thor.  
"Well, yeah," Jane shifted then, to frown up at the man. "I'm not... well... with him, but he's your brother. Family is important. Eric and Darcy, they aren't family family – but they've become important to me. How much more so Loki for you."  
"Loki..." Thor sighed. "As for Loki's thoughts, I have an inkling. So I do not ask. It is better not to court discourtesy, Jane. He has... a rather low view of mortals and during our last altercation on Asgard, he expressed a desire to – well, to visit you."  
"Oh."  
"And by visit, I mean –"  
"No, I get it."

An awkward silence fell.

"But you should still listen, even if you don't agree," Jane finally sighed. "Maybe I could talk to him and –"  
"Better not, Jane."  
"So you're just going to pretend there isn't this massive chasm between us? Between two of the most important people in your life?" Jane hesitated. "We're important to you, aren't we?"  
"Of course, Jane," Thor smiled then, down at her, kissing her on the forehead and then her nose. "I love you. I love Loki. Different kinds of love, but still strong and enduring on my part."  
"Well, then," Jane sighed. "We need to find an understanding, we three. An agreement to disagree and live in some kind of peace. I don't want to have to live with the tension of always watching my back, and Loki may want to know that I know and that it's OK that he doesn't like me."  
"Jane, he will come to love you, as I do –"  
"Thor," Jane tipped her head, rolling her eyes. "I don't think he will. And that's fine. Besides, if he loved me as you love me, that's creepy," she ended with a small giggle.  
"I was not –" Thor paused, then grinned. "Hah hah." He mock scowled. "You know what I meant."  
"Anyways," Jane sighed. "It must be hard for him to share. He doesn't have anyone else, but you. Of course, he's going to be a bit jealous."

Thor blinked and looked at the fire, remembering all those few times he had chased after his brother, attempting to bring him back. _Always, I sought to bring him back to my own circle, my own life, but in reality, I never attempted to truly understand – never to join him in his own world. Always allowing him the independence he appeared to desire, but perhaps, he needed me more than he would admit – perhaps he needed me to join him in his own place. Always looking in and seeing a person such as myself with many friends, he on the other hand barely tolerated, never understood... _

"I will talk with him," Thor sighed.  
"Soon," Jane urged.  
"Soon," Thor echoed, then drew her in for a longer kiss. "But not right now."

-0-0-0-

Loki, against his will, was coming to a better appreciation and understanding of Midgardian culture. Appreciation was perhaps stretching it. Tolerance, yes. Pure appreciation, no. But he could understand and admit to beauty – as he had at the concert, as he had felt for a moment, standing on the edge of the rolling fields covered in white, as he had when he had held the small babe in his hands. In those moments, those quiet, not-so-quiet minutes, Loki felt he had reached some kind of understanding. So that when he walked away from the soaring arches of the church, away from the whispering trees, away from the squalling, tiny babe, Loki realized something had changed within him.

It did not trouble him as much as it should. And that was troubling.

After Pepper and he returned from her errand of charity, Loki found himself once again pressed into service with the rest of the Avengers to hang small sprigs of greenery from doorways and ceilings and lamps and the like. It was a green kind of plant, unprepossessing – and rather commonly used by the sorts of magicians and sorcerors who needed potions. _Mistletoe._ He wrinkled his nose as he hung yet another offending sprig from a light fixture, trying to feel more confident on his ungainly perch on Tony's ladder. Below him, Thor and Jane were trying out the properities of said herb – lips locked yet again. His thin lips twisted in a grimace.

Somewhere, Tony was fiddling with more alcoholic beverages and asking JARVIS to put on a few "Christmas tunes" as he liked to call them. It did not sound promising.

It was not.

Once Bruce and he had stored away the ladders and other maintenance equipment as had been hijacked by Pepper and Jane, Loki found himself with a glass of Love Junk (which he could not say no to) and an annoying vision of Thor and Jane slow dancing under the newly hung sprigs of mistletoe. An excuse for kissing, Bruce had explained. It's tradition.

Pursing his lips, Loki had discovered it rather hard to refrain from a comment about the smallness and baseness of mortal urges – only to be reminded that it was his brother – _Thor, get it right Loki!_ - who was at the moment lip-locked with the mortal maiden. When the slow song ended (something nauseatingly sentimental about white holidays), Loki discovered that Tony's hands were deftly easing Loki's drink out of his hand and Thor was shoving his little brother forward.

"Come, Loki," Thor smiled. "It has been long since a floor has been graced with your gift for dance."  
"I am in no mood for a jest, Thor," Loki turned sharply. "Long has it been since I have desired or wanted to –"  
"Hey, Thor," Tony nudged the tall Asgardian. "Loki's graceful on the dance floor? Seriously? Our resident supervillain has style and flair?"  
"A flair for the dramatic, indeed," chuckled Thor. "But we were raised in the gentle arts as much as the martial, eh, little brother."  
"I am not your brother," Loki snapped. "And I do what I please – at the moment, dancing is not one of them, so –"  
"C'mon, Loki, just this once," a small hand touched his forearm, drawing his eyes upward to kind eyes and a quiet smile. "It's a lovely song."

It was a gentle kind of ballad and best suited for something stately and graceful. And catching the disbelieving look in Clint's and Tony's eyes, Loki's back stiffened and lifting his chin, glaring down his nose at the offending hand and woman attached to it, he grimaced. The ex-God of Lies raised a hand and, lifting hers to his lips, quirked a smile down at her and then up at Thor as he gently kissed the small knuckles which made his hand look big. Thor just smiled indulgently.

_The confident fool. _Loki ground his teeth. _Of course he is so certain of his woman. He would never imagine someone wishing to be with the likes of me. _

Still, Loki managed to force a courteous smile Jane's way as he pulled into the wide circle made by the pushed back chairs and couches. His fingers wove through hers and his hand, at the small of her back, drew her closer and looking down at the small face, Loki sighed.

_How I end up in situations like this is beyond me.  
Truly?_ The dark side of himself piped up. _I would think the why is obvious. As usual, you remain weak.  
Or perhaps, it is no matter to be gracious to a weaker creature who means me know harm.  
Or perhaps, you are nothing. Not even fit to hold her in your bloodstained hands._

Squeezing his eyes shut, hands tightening, teeth gritted, Loki tried to push the thoughts away, tried to forget – _forgetforgetforgetitforgetit _ – but then, a gentle gasp cut through the silence and he looked down. The face had gotten paler.

"I apologize," he said almost automatically as a familiar ache began to spread up his arms.  
"No, no," was her reply. "Just – you looked... you look."  
"Pathetic? Pitiful?"

They turned a little, moving away from Thor who still stood there, nursing his whiskey and listening with half an ear to Tony's chatter. Pepper and Bruce were also making their way around the small floor, soon joined by Clint and Natasha.

"No. Not really. I was going to say sad," Jane replied comfortingly.  
"It is no matter."  
"It must be a big deal. You don't seem to be the weak type to me."  
"A squirrel may not seem weak to an ant, but there is always a larger predator –" Loki shook his head. "No matter."

There was a silence – for half a minute. Loki wondered when the woman's sweet voice would stop singing and the music would end and he would be able to crawl back into the darkest corner of his room and berate himself.

"Loki..." A hesitation. "Do you hate me – or, I mean, is there anything I did that –" Jane winced. "Never mind. I never make sense. Even at the best of times. I'd better just stick to physics."  
"Perhaps you should," he replied smoothly. "But in answer to your moronic, half-reasoned thought, the answer is 'not particularly'."  
"Is it because I'm an ant?" she asked. "I'm not that important in the grand scheme of things, is that it?"  
"Hmmm..." Loki cocked his head and smiled then. 'Perhaps that is it."  
"But I'm your brother's girlfriend. Doesn't that bother you – that a brother should, I don't know what you call it, consort with a mortal?"  
"Thor has done worse," was the sour reply. "You at least seem to have some wit about you and some kind of primitive intelligence. Of course, I wonder what Lady Sif would think if she discovered how serious his affections are toward you."  
"Lady Sif?"  
"An able warrior. The only woman to defy convention and prove her worth in the standard Asgardian path of military and physical strength."  
"She as strong as you?"  
"Some would say stronger," Loki grinned bitterly. "Others say I am more womanly than her, due to my reliance on the magical arts. They are jealous – of both her and I. I pay them no heed."  
"But you must!" Jane's fingers tightened in his grip. "I mean, not that you must, but you must have. I mean, well, words can hurt people just as much as actions. Oh gosh, I'm not – I'm just babbling. Ever since I've come, I've felt like I've been the most useless thing with this whole... situation – and now I get my chance, and I can't get two words out! You must think I'm horribly idiotic. Normally, I'm not. Ask me about atoms and sub-atomic particles – but –"

Loki laughed then, a short chuckle, which made Jane blink – because for one second, his face brightened – lightened – eased – and for a moment, she caught a glimpse of a young, innocent young man who could find humour in little things and delight in the world around him. For a moment, she could see it – what Thor must always see an echo of. Her gaze, filled with a sharp chin, a thin face, too large green eyes and dark tangled, newly washed hair, blurred.

"Like Lady Sif then," he said, biting his lip, cheeks a little pink as he realized what had slipped out. "Put a sword in her hand, and she can ably dispatch any man. Put a dress on her, set her on the dance floor with a man, and she is all thumbs and all left feet."  
"I bet you laughed at her then."  
"I did my best." Loki's eyes then sharpened as he realized how her eyes seemed to hold something like sadness – a foreign look for the usually bright girl. "What is the matter now, wench?"  
"Nothing, nothing," Jane laughed then, shakily. "Just being silly again."  
"I swear, setting aside Mother and Sif, most women are silly. Nothing to be apologetic for."  
"Pepper isn't silly!"  
"Well, perhaps there is a capable woman in Midgard," Loki had to admit.  
"And Marie Hill – from Shield. And Natasha. And you haven't met Darcy. Not yet. She's – well, a bit of a crazy kind of girl, a real tiger, you know. She loves tazing people and –"  
"I heard that you were not so bad yourself," Loki mused aloud, his green eyes flitting to the side as a look of mischief flashed across his face. "From what Thor tells me, you are not afraid to wield the might of your vehicle to run over newcomers to Midgard."  
"Thor! He told you that? He did not!"  
"Did too," Loki smirked. "I believe you smote him twice. I wish I had been there to see it. Alas for missed opportunities."  
"Loki! You meanie!"  
"Still." A pause and Loki glanced down at the girl again. "I stand by what I said. Thor could have picked worse. His taste is improving, I warrant."  
"You don't have to sound so enthused."  
"Why would I be enthused about my brother's taste in women?" Loki sniffed. "When I said his taste was improving, that was not much of a compliment in reality. Know your place woman."  
"Are you trying to get me mad?" Jane asked incredulously. "Because it won't work."  
"I speak only the truth. But, as usual, my opinion in such matters are never considered, even if I am considering your best interest as well."  
"My best interest?"  
"I find your disbelief disturbing, wench. Consider this – he will spend but a short span of time with you – and then, when age steals upon you, he will never return. You will be gone, quicker than memory. A vapour in the wind, and he will continue on until you are naught but a fond memory, not even warranting the title of epoch. And what will you gain? The patronizing attentions of a god for a moment, instead of leaving you with the bliss of ignorance."

Loki eyed the girl, waiting for the harsh rebuttal. An expletive. For her to jerk away and call him all manner of things for his dastardly behaviour. Yet, again, Jane surprised him with a short laugh.

"I guess I asked for that in a way. You think he'll use me and then when I am old, toss me away and forget me?" Jane sighed. "It does seem impractical – he'll never age, not like me – but, imagine... Loki... a life so short, that every minute is like a – a – precious jewel. You want to hold onto each golden moment. Such happiness is so rare and so desperately looked for, when you find it, you don't let it go. You never let it go."

A pause.

"Maybe I won't be able to spend my whole life with Thor. Maybe I will grow old and become nothing for him in the long run of things – but my life has been filled with so many good things since he fell in front of my car and I hit him. All my life, people laughed at me because I believed in something no one could verify conclusively. Do you know what it is like to know the truth of something and never be recognized for it? To be considered insane or stupid or irrational because you follow in pursuit of a science no one is willing to admit to?" Jane shrugged. "Thor tells me you are a sorceror. On Asgard, as a man, you said you weren't treated well because you were a magic user and not a straight up warrior. I felt the same way – and Thor brought me hope. Brought me knowledge of something so amazing. And of course, he's amazing too. And there's you too. You know, Thor told me a lot about you..."

"I am amazed that you wanted to meet me," Loki grimaced – but his voice was soft and his mind obviously far away as he processed her words. "Considering who – what I am."  
"I don't know what you are," admitted Jane. "But so far, other than the fact that you killed a ton of people last time and were stopped – I know you went to jail and weren't treated fairly. I know you want to be free. I know that you are incredibly intelligent – which is great, because if we ever could, I'd like to ask you what you know about the Rainbow Bridge. Thor just described it once for me, but he's a bit hazy on how it was constructed. He said you'd know. Do you know how many people would like to know what you know?" Jane shook her head. Then continued, "I know you are also very kind, deep down. I can tell by how you treat Pepper and Bruce. And other things. Little things. Like how you find joy in cake pops and how you hang mistletoe although you want to be in another room moping..."  
"I feel like you have been watching me too long for your own good, woman," Loki blinked down at her, glanced away, his lips pressed together and adam's apple jumping. "How will Thor feel to discover his lover's mind has been overwrought with delusions? OW!"

Jane had smacked him on the upper arm.

"Stop it," she laughed, then drew back as realization struck. "Oh! The song ended."

She turned and laughed as she noticed that Thor was emerging from the kitchen bearing slices of chocolate cake loaded with dark icing and cherries.

"The song ended two songs ago," smirked Tony. "But it looks like you needed the talk, so we just let it go. You look pretty snazzy on the floor, Reindeer Games. Maybe we'll have to change your name to Prancer."  
"Prancer?" Loki raised an eyebrow.  
"Another reindeer. Friend of Rudolph."  
"Ignore him," Jane accepted a small slice from Thor and a kiss. "Thank you," she whispered.  
"You look beautiful," Thor said in respond.  
"I may vomit," Loki stalked back into the kitchen. "Where is my slice? Seeing as I was co-producer of this work of art, I should think –"  
"Here it is," Pepper handed over a super large slice. "I think it's a bit too sweet – the icing, I mean – but oh well, it's better than our sugar cookies."  
"It came from a box. We merely added liquid," Loki frowned. "I fail to see how we could fail."  
"Good point," Natasha grinned. "Want to try a turn around the room later, Loki? I promise not to tear your arms off or disable your feet."  
"I have no real desire to consort with the enemy, even one such as... lovely... as yourself."  
"I sure hope not," Clint elbowed past him and grabbed himself a slice of cake. "Why would you even think about dancing with him, Tasha? It's not like you lack men around here. There's me, Steve, me, Bruce, me, Tony – well, OK. Maybe not Tony. But there's me!"  
"Hah! Perhaps it is due to your apparent unease while dancing."  
"What are you blabbing on about now," Clint's eyes glinted. "You didn't look too excited yourself out there, last I saw. And - we can't all be Asgardian princes with royal tutors. Besides, thanks to supervillains like you, I've had to skip my dancing classes."  
"Do not blame me for your lack of innate dancing skill," Loki spat. "Clodhopping ogre."  
"Your mom's a clodhopping ogress," was the snappy comeback.

For a moment, an awkward silence fell broken by a long-drawn out, "Oooooo! Burn!" from Tony who had just arrived at the counter (wanting to drag Pepper out for another dance). It was obvious Loki was in some kind of shock – his hands began to shake – and before anyone could move, the ex-God's small paper plate went flying, cake and all, into Clint's face. Another silence proceeded – this time horrified – as it fell off, revealing a stunned Clint, who was now caked liberally with icing and crumbs and fat bits of cake.

"That was a waste," Tony's comment was overrun by an explosive, "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF ODIN'S WIFE AND QUEEN OF ASGARD THAT WAY! Know your place, puny mortal! You may consider me nothing but mud beneath your shoes to trample on, but my mother is far above the likes of you and deserves every respect due to her and her station."  
"Whoo boy," Tony pushed Loki back and around the counter, away from Clint, just in case the archer decided to exact revenge on the ex-God. "OK, guys. Let's calm down here. Loki, that was supposed to be a joke. Poor taste, yes, but I'm sure Clint didn't mean to really disrespect Queen Frigga. Pepper, go get Bruce." His eyes had already noticed how how pinched and drawn Loki's face had gotten, his left hand already automatically beginning to massage his right arm – a sure sign of the spell at work.  
"He must apologize," Loki said, stubbornly, hissing his words around short harsh intakes of breath which belied his pain.  
"Like hell am I apologizing to you," laughed Clint, suddenly finding his voice. "I'll apologize to your Mom sure, but I don't have to apologize to you. Geez, you don't even know a joke when it bites you in the ass. Pathetic," he smirked. "And totally wasted your piece of cake too. I'm off to where people make sense."

With that, Clint turned around and strode out, shaking his head. Tony slumped and sighed. "Well then, that's good. No violence. What were you thinking, Reindeer Games?"  
"He made a joke at my mother's expense."  
"We'll let your mother deal with him," Tony said, shoulders relaxing at the sight of Thor's , Pepper's and Bruce's concerned faces. "I'm sure she can take care of herself."  
"How is she to take care of herself as you put it if she is not here to hear the man besmirch her name?" Loki was sitting now on the counter, hunched over, as Bruce dug out some pills from the small med-kit he had stashed in one of the upper cupboards.  
"OK. Well, you can go crying to Mommy and do the whole good boy tattle-taling thing and let her know and then she can come down and spank him herself –" Tony winced as the words left his mouth.

_Oh crap. Shouldn't have said that..._

Loki head jerked up, fingers tightening around his arm as his fingers flexed dangerously. Ignoring Thor's alarmed look, Loki's green eyes met Tony's brown ones with firm resolve.

"Odin's pajamas."  
"OK. Sorry. My bad. I shouldn't have said that."  
"What? Pardon. Sorry," Thor blinked. "What happened? What do my father's night clothes have to do with this?"  
"Long story. Clint made a your mom joke."  
"He didn't," Bruce sighed.  
"Yeah, he kind of did. Steve will deal with him. I'll talk to Steve. Loki tossed his cake in Clint's face. It was kinda awesome. All kinds of awesome. Now Loki has a bit of an arm ache. That spell is sure picky. How could Loki kill the man with cake? Seriously. Anyways. It's over now."  
"And my father's night clothes?"  
"That one has me stumped too," Bruce handed Loki a glass of water with two pills and watched the ex-God down them dutifully.  
"Safe word."

Pause. Bruce and Pepper swivelled around toward him and gave him a LOOK. Thor blinked, confused. Tony shrugged and tried to look innocent, the usual 'what-did-lil-ol'-me-do?' look, Loki watched the small group, face blank.

"What?" Tony finally said.  
"Tony," Pepper sighed.  
"Look. I put my foot in my mouth. All the time. Twenty-four seven. It's something that bothers Loki, so we set up a safeword. If I push too many hot buttons, he says it and I apologize and shut up right away. It's a system. It works."  
"So far," Bruce murmured mildly.  
"You could be proactive and try to stop yourself BEFORE you go that far," sighed Pepper. "But, I guess it's a good step in the right direction. Are you OK, Loki?"  
"I am fine," Loki said, his green gaze now trained on the counter, face and posture still tight and just a tiny bit defeated. "I did not mean to lose such control. It was immature and silly of me to react that way."  
"Loki," Thor's arm wrapped around his brother's shoulder. "From the sounds of it, you merely defended our mother's honour, even if it was a mistake, it was an honest one – and furthermore, speaks to your credit. Mother will be so proud of you, standing up for her. She has always worried that her mistakes would turn your heart against her."  
"Mother has never made mistakes," Loki frowned. "I am the one to blame."  
"Not if you listened to mother," Thor shook his head. "She blames herself and her inaction for what transpired between Father and you. This small action tonight will bring joy to her – and I am sure in the future, you will both be able to laugh about it together."

Loki slumped forward even further, his forehead now touching the smooth, cool countertop and sighed.

"I do not feel like laughing." Loki sighed. "Tonight, I played the part of fool. What little dignity I had gathered is now gone thanks to a tantrum more suited to a child and I have nothing to gain for it but loss and vulnerability. Really, do not hold back, Thor. You may laugh at my expense now, more than ever. I am sure Heimdall and –"  
"Loki," Thor glared at his brother. "You must cease this useless wallowing, for you must know that it is untrue. Father and Mother would never laugh at your expense. As for Heimdall, I swear that man has less humour than a monolith."

Loki's face tightened as another smile split his face again and he huffed out a small chuckle, while the tension in his shoulder's eased. He eased his arm up onto the counter, massaging the cramping absently, eyes fixed on the patterns of the counter top.

"Well, Loki just destroyed his piece of the cake," sighed Pepper, as she scooped up the plate and cake off the floor. Dumping it into a nearby trashcan, she finished wiping up the floor before smiling at Loki's bent head. Pepper moved over to the cake and moved the last piece onto the last plate. "Here's another slice, it's not as big – but I'm sure it can cheer you up all the same."

At the sound of "another slice", Loki's head jerked up and he gazed at Pepper bewildered.

"But I destroyed my slice – through my own fault and –"  
"We have enough," Pepper smiled, sliding over another paper plate with a new slice of cake on it, complete with icing and cherries.

Loki's hand hovered for a moment, before creeping forward to slowly pull it toward himself.

"But what of Lady Pepper?" he stammered. "You will have no slice."  
"Diet," Pepper smiled. "And we can make another one tomorrow easily enough if I want to blow it."  
"Diet," Tony frowned. "Since when? You've always looked lovely."  
"That's because I'm always watching my weight," Pepper kissed him then. "But I will steal a spoonful of yours and be happy."

Watching the two mortals kiss each other and then leave the kitchen, Loki could only shake his head before focusing his attention on the slice of cake before him. He tried to ignore Thor, but his bro – he sighed, but Thor showed no signs of going.

"What now, Thor?"  
"I want you to promise me to not ask such a thing of me again," Thor frowned. "To relish in your humiliation. I know I have not been the best brother that I should have been – but I truly wish to start afresh, and as such, I cannot laugh at you. As your brother, it is my duty, no, it is my joy, to protect you from people who would dishonour you or cause you pain."  
"I am not your brother," the ex-God of Mischief glared at his brother.

Thor just gave Loki a look. Loki sighed and went back to eating the cake. The cake at least wasn't bothering him with useless words and idle gestures.

"Do not fret, Thor. I am going nowhere and made the choice to remain here in this company, such as it is. Having made my bed, I am fully capable of laying in it. There is no need to offer empty words or promises of some short-lived affection. Such affectations are meaningless before the God of Lies, even if I hold none of my powers. Do not lay so much effort for something which will pass in a space of months. Inconstant love is something I can do very much without, thank you very much."  
"Inconstant – inconstant –"

For a second, anger crossed Thor's face – but it disappeared, only to be replaced by heavy sorrow. His arm then snaked around Loki's shoulder's drawing his brother into a tight hug, jiggling his arm and smearing icing across his chin with the sudden movement.

"Oaf! Let me be!" Loki snapped struggling to free himself, but Thor would not let him go and Loki surrendered with a small huff.  
"Sheepheaded as always," Thor said fondly, giving his brother a squeeze before relaxing his arms, allowing Loki his freedom. "Foolish little brother."

But Loki did not pull away.

-0-0-0-

Later on, when Loki escaped to his bedroom, the others did not protest, letting the ex-God of Mischief go, which allowed them the much needed privacy to listen to whatever news Natasha and Clint might have about their recent reconnaissance missions. Tony dispensed new drinks all around. Pepper and Jane drew aside to discuss the next day's plans – which was to lay low and double-check that everyone had the gifts that they needed, since Christmas Eve was coming up really fast. As the two women disappeared around the corner and into the kitchen, Tony exhaled a breath and darted a questioning look at Natasha.

"So?" He finally asked. "What news from the North? Or wherever you've been – Fury's been tight-lipped and thanks to some idiots trying to hack JARVIS and the Stark Tower's mainframe, I've not had the time to sit down and find out myself. No need to look worried, Steve, people try to hack my systems all the time. Well, the operative word is 'try'. JARVIS whips their asses and sends them crying back home. Although, if they piss me off enough, I take'em to court. Been there and done that a couple times – just to show that I don't fool around. Anyways, no big deal."  
"I wasn't going to say anything about security risks," Steve said. "I was going to scold you about your alarming bad habit of hacking SHIELD. You really should just stop and wait like the rest of us do –"  
"Uhhh... no," Tony faked thinking about it for a second before disagreeing. "Remember what happened last time? Phase Two? Ring a bell. No offense, but I wanna know when they come up with Phase Three. You get my drift."  
"Well, setting aside Tony and his severe disregard for rules and procedures," Natasha sighed, giving Tony a look, which only made him feel a LITTLE nervous. "It's not really certain. We do know that equipment is being moved around. I have a feeling it's Doctor Doom."  
"Again?" sighed Tony.  
"Again," Clint nodded. "We don't know what he's up to."  
"Probably another model of Doom-bots," sighed Tony. "I hate those."  
"I thought you said you were enjoying yourself last time," Natasha raised an eyebrow, amused.  
"I did? I must have been drunk. Or sleepwalking. Or both. The guy has no sense of originality. Remember those good old days when we could enjoy awesome monologues of ants and boots and warm lights for mankind and kneeling and glorious purposes and stuff? At least Reindeer Games had style."  
"I have to agree," Clint sighed. "Dr. Doom is just annoying. Don't let Loki know I said that, Thor, or you'll find an arrow headed your way next time we go out."  
"Doctor Doom?" Thor frowned. "I have not met him, have I?"  
"Not yet," Bruce shook his head. "But if he's really up to no good, he'll do it on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day – like last time."  
"A real drag," sighed Clint. "Which is why Tasha and I want to smoke him out before then."  
"Good luck with that," Tony smiled.  
"Which is why you're going to help them with your hacking skills," Steve added, with a small frown. "But we need to keep on our toes. Just in case it's not Doctor Doom."  
"I'm pretty sure it's him," Natasha shook her head. "You saw the photos I took, Tony."  
"Yeah..." sighed the genius. "The rounded chasis of the metal definitely looked like one of the Doom-bot's inner shell casing. But the size and shape is a bit different. A different model. And you know what that means."  
"Not really," Thor blinked.  
"Upgrades," Tony said with a significant look.  
"They will have new abilities," Bruce quickly elaborated. "You never know what you're getting yourself into with new Doom-bot upgrades."  
"A challenge!" Thor grinned. "This bodes well."  
"Not on Christmas it doesn't," frowned Clint. "Why can't the asshole have a holiday like everyone else? Even our local God of Mischief has gotten with the program."  
"Speaking of which," Steve eyed Thor. "We can't say much about it to him – but we need you chat with him about taking it easy when he goes out. Just tell him there's a few other supervillains out there who take potshots at us and he needs to be careful. Not that he goes anywhere without one of us around – but still."  
"Can I tell him it is this Doctor Doom? Perhaps a description of the man?" Thor asked.  
"Um. Well," Natasha sighed. "I'll ask Fury tomorrow morning. If he says yes, I'll let you know what details you can share, OK?"  
"Very well," Thor replied nodding, but not looking too happy.  
"Anything else?" Tony looked around the room. "No? OK. Fine. Tomorrow, Thor talks to his bro. I hack. I smack down the other hackers. Everyone else keeps an eye out... And remember to bring out your presents and put them under the tree. Pepper says it needs to look more crowded."  
"Sure, sure," Clint sighed, scratching his head while glancing at Natasha.

_I guess there's no way to put it off anymore. Gotta get Reindeer Games his stuff... _He noticed an encouraging flash of a smile sent his way from Natasha. _We can do this_, he remembered, _together._

-0-0-0-_  
_

The small, warm light of the lamp lit the corner of his bedroom by the head of his bed in a comforting way, casting a golden shadow around the spartan room, reminding him of a time when he had had his own chambers which also had been lit in a similarly familiar way. His chambers. Loki wondered for a moment what had happened to them. Had they been given to a lordling? Had they been locked away and left to ungentle scourge of mold and dust? Had they been redecorated for the use of a spare room to be let for such a time as when elvish or dwarven dignitaries visited?

_Or maybe Thor, in a fit of sentimentality, has kept them ready for me._ Loki smiled to himself, leaning against the cool window pane of his room and peering out into the blackness, seeing nothing but the faint reflection of himself. Blurred, smeared, distorted, warped. _Or Mother..._

_Mother._

The name resonated within him and he considered Thor's words. It seemed almost too good to be true - but when he had looked into Thor's eyes, as always there had been nothing but sincerity. Thor as usual had unknowingly brought Loki a gift that seemed too miraculous to be believed.

_Mother._  
_Mother is waiting._  
_Mother is waiting for me._

And she was sorry. Squeezing his eyes and gulping back tears, Loki bit his lip and focused instead on the last memory of his mother. Silent - mute - stricken - worried - anxious. It had been the initial welcoming home when Thor had returned with the Tesseract and Loki in tow. She had made to move forward, but at the resounding metallic boom of Gugnir set down on the dais, Odin had begun the meeting in earnest. In formality. Dealing with each item swiftly. Loki, bundled off in one direction, the Tesseract in another, had forced himself not to look back.

Now, more than ever, he wished that he had been able to speak with her - even if it was only to listen. To listen to her long-winded renditions of what the lower court was getting up to. Her humorous tales of the latest gaffe by an upper guild member who had come to court for a trade meeting with some foreign dignitaries. Her gentle scolding. Her laughter.

Loki remembered his wishlist and sighed. She could not come down for Christmas - and without her, would the solstice celebrations be complete? Loki thought not.

_If she was here, I would have so much to tell her_, he smiled to himself, green eyes glittering._ I would talk of the men with no homes who have the ability to embrace so much. To speak of Pepper and Jane and their obsession with decorations which would rival the women of the court. To regale her with tales of speeding down the sides of mountains on bits of wood and singing and dancing... Robert Loki Anthony Hollins. She would find that to be so amazing and humorous - and she would make Father laugh at it too._

Against the glass, his long fingers curled into a fist. He stood there, in silence, drowning in the chill of the cool glass. And missed her.

* * *

**Next up: Revelation of who Loki drew (if you haven't already guessed) - what he gets and what Clint gets for him. The Grinch Who Stole Christmas and some small Clint developments.**_  
_


	33. Part One: War Is Over

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**A doozy of a chappie – but that's because I do have a bunch of things to iron out before I start the climax in earnest... Uh. '**

**THANKS TO ALL REVIEWERS AND EMI, MY FRIEND, who has chatted with me on this subject ad nauseum and helped me to iron stuff out. **

**OK. So, throughout this fic, Clint has struggled with coming to terms. He is not by any sense of the word an angel of mercy, and neither is he a sadist. He is, I hope, a very 3-D character who wants to do the right thing but, like most humans who are not naive or psychologically damaged, needs to work through things before he accepts someone who has hurt him and his world very badly. As a person of faith, I advocate forgiveness and turning the other cheek - but even I understand that people of faith can make mistakes and struggle with the paradox of loving the sinner and hating the sin. **

**As such, Clint, I hope, will show himself as smoothly moving from Point A (I want to kill Loki) to Point Z (I will forgive him and tolerate him but we won't ever be the best of buddies). Let's see if this can happen. This chapter deals with the heart of it - and hopefully by the end, we'll see the foundations stones laid down here as being totally firmed up in the last seven chapters. **

**Yep.**

**"The Grince Who Stole Christmas" is not mine. It belongs to Doctor Suess. Awesomeness. I don't gain money by using any of his stuff. Yep.**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 33  
Part One: War Is Over...

"And so this is Xmas (war is over)  
For weak and for strong (if you want it)  
For rich and the poor ones (war is over)  
The world is so wrong (if you want it)  
And so happy Xmas (war is over)  
For black and for white (if you want it)  
For yellow and red ones (war is over)  
Let's stop all the fight (now)

A very Merry Xmas  
And a happy New Year  
Let's hope it's a good one  
Without any fear"

("Happy Christmas (War Is Over) – sung by Maroon 5)

Clint had a problem. Well, he had many problems. Life without problems is like the Earth without oxygen – impossible. Over time, with maturity, Clint thought he had learned how to face and overcome said life problems. He had thought as much, until three years ago. Until he had been brainwashed. Until he had been, basically, to all intents and purposes, mind raped. Until his inner inhibitions had been set loose and he had turned on those he had called friends (and a few, what he had called family).

As a young man, coming out of the background he did (circuses and moving, always moving, with never a place to call home), Clint had learned to cherish the few he called dear – and thanks to his current problem, the archer had nearly jeopardized that life, those precious few. He had nearly destroyed the organization which had given him purpose, a goal. He had nearly destroyed Natasha, who had given him hope and a renewed sense of heart.

Now, he wasn't insane or naive. SHIELD was no lily-white pure organization (neither was Natasha). Clint was as much aware of what his ledger held, knowing that Natasha also struggled with the same thing in the quiet of the night. How do you justify what you did when you were perpetuating a lie? How did you live with yourself when you woke up from that nightmare and realized what you had destroyed? How did you come to grips with that ledger which had been added to under misapprehensions, a distorted vision?

Natasha, he knew, understood more than anyone what it meant to be lied to. Lied to so long, so well, you didn't know up from down, wrong from right. But Natasha had been a child. A young thing molded by whatever bastards had made her in the outback of Russia. What she had done had been truly evil, but it had been with a peculiar innocence and vision – and when she had realized what it really was, when he looked into her eyes and saw regret and fear and desperation, Clint had stayed his arrow and given her a second chance.

Rolling over yet again in their shared bed, for the third time that night, Clint considered what was on the agenda for the following day. Shopping for Loki. Shopping for a Christmas gift, shopping for the being who had forced him to add to his ledger (if you used Natasha's particular terms). It was hard to believe – but somehow he was going to do it. Somehow he had to do it. Somehow. Somehow.

He had to overcome it.

That problem. That problem which consisted of six feet of thin muscle and sharp intelligence and quick wit and a violent repudiation of Earth and Asgard (if you went by words alone, but Clint knew better than that) and a disturbing ability to provoke, to con and to out-strategize anything in the Nine Realms. That problem physically embodied with glittering, sometimes guileless green eyes, an underfed mass of bone and skin, graceful movement and aristocratic features better suited for some posh film.

The problem of Loki.

Intellectually, Clint knew that it was all water under the bridge. Mentally, he understood that Loki had done his time. And then some. If you went by the hints which Tony dropped. If you went by the off-hand comments Thor made every now and then. If you believed the desperation, the ground down look in Loki's eyes himself.

Clint even could argue that any of the "superheroes" or any staff member working for any government agency in a military capacity had to be held responsible for the loss of anyone's lives in the field. _As such, there is no innocent in this world_, he sighed to himself. _And I can live with that. I know that I live on borrowed time and society's grace. Just like Loki. _

But then, there were the memories. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced his mind away, even as Natasha's arms crept around his chest, pulling him back into her embrace.

"Sleep," she whispered drowsily. "Worry about it tomorrow."

He squinted at the alarm clock's red numbers. _Six o'clock, dammit. _

"It's already tomorrow," he grumbled. "There's no way I'll get back to sleep."

Easing out of her unresisting arms, Clint got up in the dark, grabbed his clothes, slipped into the washroom to dress quickly before heading out again, allowing Natasha to get another hour of nap before her usual rising time. When the red-head finally emerged from the washroom an hour and a half or so later, she discovered Clint downstairs chatting with Bruce about jogging shoes and using the iNano versus the iPod for exercise routines.

"Let me grab a granola bar," she said, brushing past him to walk down the hallway toward the kitchen. "Then we can hit the road and get this gift shopping thing over and done with."  
"Ah, not done yet?" asked Bruce.  
"Not by half," Clint sighed. "But we're gonna do it."  
"Can't believe it. You're actually going to go through with it." Bruce nodded, impressed. "Wow."  
"Well," Clint hesitated. "Just something small. Food stamps. To help him when he gets back on the streets. And a non-perishable food basket. Natasha's idea, really. I'm just footing the bill."  
"We're doing it together, aren't we?" Natasha reappeared at his elbow, frowning. "Splitting the bill and stuff, right?"  
"Well, the food basket part, yes."  
"Here's a fifty," Bruce rooted around in his pocket. "Add to it and put my name on the card too."  
"Oh. Thanks," Clint grinned. "He'll love hating the charity."  
"But it'll be good for him."  
"Yeah..."  
"Thanks a ton, Clint," Bruce said then, now serious. "I know it's been hard for you."  
"I guess," Clint shrugged. "It gets a bit easier every day. There might even be a light at the end of the tunnel."  
"Well, keep on chugging or whatever," the scientist replied with an easy smile and wandered off, no doubt to hide back in his lab again.  
"You really ready for this?" Natasha asked, her eyes calm.  
"Yeah," Clint smiled then. "Let's do this thing."

-0-0-0-

Several hours later, bundling into the elevator, arms full of shopping bags, Natasha and Clint sighed with relief as the doors shut and the elevator smoothly carried them upward to the topmost floor of Stark Towers. When the doors opened, they found Pepper and Loki huddled around a pile of DVDs; Pepper's face was animated with enthusiasm as her voice carried across the room exclaiming about music and dance numbers in "White Christmas".

"Danny Kaye is the reason why I watch it, really," she was saying. "He's so awkwardly dreamy, you know?"

Bruce got out of his chosen armchair and padded across to them, taking note of their baggage and nodding surreptitiously to his left, toward the hallway and their rooms. Following hard on their heels, he eyed the bulging grocery bags and smiled with relief.

"You're late."  
"Traffic was nuts," Natasha shook her head.  
"Sorry. When did our Loki shift start again?" Clint sighed.  
"Half an hour ago. So not too late. We're gonna set him up with a movie."  
"I'll wrap up the stuff. Or try to," Natasha offered.  
"Thanks," Clint nodded.  
"Don't thank me until you see it," warned the assassin.  
"Ask Pepper. She'll help," suggested Bruce with a laugh. "That's what I did."  
"Good idea."

Clint stood indecisively in the doorway as Bruce began to unpack the bags and Natasha hunted down the scissors. From down the way, they could still hear Pepper's light chatter. Loki seemed to be more or less mute – a sign of deep thought or horrid flashbacks or devious planning... Really, it was hard to guess what the ex-God of Mischief was thinking of at any given moment.

"I guess you guys don't have musicals on Asgard, huh. Or look – what about this? This one is a short one. 'The Grinch That Stole Christmas'. Have you had a chance to watch cartoons yet? You really should watch it."

Another silence. Natasha began to pull out wrapping papers rolls from the communal wrapping paper stash in the closet near the bedroom door. Brushing past Clint, she entered the room again and jerked her head toward the living room.

"You'd best go," she said. "Get Pepper to pop in, OK?"  
"Sure, sure," Clint nodded.  
"Short, you say." Loki's voice finally broke the companionable silence in the room.  
"And very funny."  
"Something light-hearted would not go amiss," he conceded. "It has been a long time – a long, long time since I found I could laugh."  
"Well, then. There you go. Oh! Clint!" Pepper looked up, noticing Clint standing uneasily by the armchair. "You're here for the next shift? Loki's watching his first cartoon."  
"Sounds great," Clint said, trying for some enthusiasm and failing. "Natasha's in our room – needs to chat with you about something. I'll keep an eye on Loki here. Know how to work at DVD player, uh, Reindeer Games?"

Loki just stared back at Clint, subsiding into muteness as was his wont when Clint took babysitting duty. Normally, Clint was fine with that. _The less chatty the God of Mischief is_, he thought, _the less trouble for everyone._ But it was starting to bother even him. Without another word, Clint slid the DVD in, letting it start automatically, while Loki took the farthest seat away from him, to which he made no complaint.

Sitting across from the ex-God of Lies and Chaos and crap, Clint shifted one of the Starkpads which Tony left lying around onto his lap and began a silent query with JARVIS. _'Loki'._ The file came up easily enough. _Standard file._ He read it a bit more carefully. Frowned as a word caught his eye. Switched to Thor's profile to double-check. _Huh_, Clint thought. _That's... interesting._ His blue eyes flickered up to watch Loki who was frowning as he tried to decipher the beginning introduction of the children's tale.

_**Every Who  
Down in Who-ville  
Liked Christmas a lot.**_

_**But the Grinch,  
Who lived just North of Who-ville,  
Did NOT! **_

Clint typed in the strange word. _Jotun._ A small white dialogue box flitted up with a familiar set of red letters: CLASSIFIED, LEVEL 2, Not Available For Current Level of Clearance. _Hm_, he grinned. _OK then, so you wanna play rough..._ Within minutes, with the help of JARVIS, Clint Barton was busy hacking into his work's mainframe. It was surprisingly restful, this – just sitting and letting the quiet room be filled with the sound of a cheerful cartoon and his mad typing. _Strange. Rather weird. Putting the word 'restful' in the same context of Loki and a Christmas movie._

He pushed away the memory of walking with Loki down subterranean tunnels, feeling at one with his purpose and a certain amount of respect for the being at his side. His skin crawled.

_**The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!  
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.  
It could be that his head wasn't screwed on quite right.  
It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.  
But I think that the most likely reason of all  
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small. **_

Trying to relax the sudden tension in his shoulders, he leaned back and watched the screen. Watched the Grinch complain to the ever patient Max. The archer's eyes darted to Loki, wondering what the ex-God of Mischief was thinking as he watched the Grinch hatch his horrible plan. _Does he think this is a good idea? Or is he horrified like every normal, moral, sane person should be? Does it matter what he thinks?_

Clint's eyes took careful note of Loki's posture. The ex-god's hair was still crinkly and wetly curled thanks to a recent shower, he supposed. His face was free of tension, excepting for a hardness around the eyes and a tightness in the jaw. That could be from the movie. _Or maybe not._ His shoulders, clad in a grey shirt courtesy of Steve, were hunched forward a bit – still a little too bony. The arms, still lightly muscled, rested against his drawn up knees – the thin, pale wrists hanging loosely, fingers clenching a little absently.

_**But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick  
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!  
"Why, my sweet little tot," the fake Santy Claus lied,  
"There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side.**_

_**"So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear.  
"I'll fix it up there. Then I'll bring it back here." **_

_**And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted her head  
And he got her a drink and he sent he to bed.  
And when Cindy-Lou Who went to bed with her cup,  
HE went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up! **_

At that, Loki leaned forward. Definitely interested now. An amused smile grew on his face and Clint, focusing on JARVIS's program, scowled. When the song began, Clint looked up again – and noticed that Loki certainly looked fascinated with how deftly the Grinch stole all of the Who's Christmas belongings.

"Will he get caught?" A quiet voice spoke into the air as the Grinch slid wreaths off the wires and threw them onto Max. If Clint hadn't seen Loki's lips move, he would have thought it was a ghost speaking, so quiet it was.  
"Yes and no," Clint said. "Do you want him to get caught?"

Loki shuffled his feet a bit and eased back a little, fingers now spread out flat on his knees.

"If I say no, you will judge me a criminal. If I say yes, you will think me a liar. Perhaps I should say nothing."  
"Maybe," Clint shrugged, his attention moving back to the data pad. "You should say what you want."  
"Hm."

A note of disbelief. _But that's no surprise_, Clint had to admit. _Crazy to admit, but he's right..._

_**You nauseate me, Mister Grinch,  
With a nauseous super "naus",  
You're a crooked dirty jockey and you drive a crooked hoss, Mister Grinch,  
You're a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich, with arsenic sauce!**_

_**You're a rotter, Mister Grinch,  
You're the king of sinful sots,  
Your heart's a dead tomato splotched with moldy purple spots, Mister Grinch,  
Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots! **_

JARVIS's program suddenly pinged. Several windows opened unprompted and Clint leaned forward, his eyes scanning through the first dialogue box which was topped in large clinical words: Jotunheim – The Jotunn. He looked at the pictures, he read the main descriptions. As if from far away, he could hear Thor's voice at the side of a true covered with blue lights.

_It is something he fears and hates above all else... himself._

And Tony's remark on blue skin and Avatar cosplay. Tony knew. _The bastard. He knew what Loki was. A Jotun._ If you went by ancient Asgardian tales, a mindless beast which would deserve nothing but to be put down. A creature from a race which had long ago attempted to subjugate the Earth. And all of his life, Loki had thought himself nothing but an Aesir, only to find out that he had been lied to.

_All that time._ Clint thought, dazed. _And so he went nuts. Well, that's..._ He didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to think. From far away, he could hear the movie going on.

_**Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mount Crumpit,  
He rode to the tiptop to dump it!  
"Pooh-pooh to the Whos!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming.  
"They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!  
"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!  
"Their mouths will hang open a minute or two  
"The all the Whos down in Who-ville will all cry BOO-HOO!" **_

And so he decided to show them, the people who he had called his own, the Aesir. He wanted to show them how much he cared – and he tried to kill his own people. Killed his own father in cold blood in order to protect his adopted father. T_o choose between Laufey and Odin. Holy shit. Holy shit and hot damn. _

The sled, unbelievably weighed down with a tonnage of sacks, balanced precariously on Mount Crumpet. Loki was now definitely leaning forward, green eyes wide as he watched the Grinch gloat.

_That's what he did_, Clint thought. _Maybe that's what the whole thing was – the whole coming to Midgard thing was a chance for him to give the old man the middle finger. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe we'll never know. Maybe he'll always be one French Fry short of a Happy Meal. If Natasha knew this though..._ He sighed. _She'd understand. As someone who was lied to for most of her young life, 'Tash would understand._

Closing down the window, he looked at the second one. It was shorter. Thor's debriefing on Loki's imprisonment. _I didn't ask for this_, Clint frowned. _What... _A short article, not definitive. Definitely sounding like Thor was holding back a load of details. _Just enough for SHIELD and Fury to know that Loki had done his time_, the archer supposed. _They'd want to know before setting Loki loose in New York. _

_**"That's a noise," grinned the Grinch,  
"That I simply must hear!"  
So he paused. And the Grinch put a hand to his ear.  
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.**_

_**It started in low. Then it started to grow... **_

_**But the sound wasn't sad!  
Why, this sound sounded merry!  
It couldn't be so!  
But it WAS merry! VERY! **_

The words were short and to the point, but his finger already slid across the screen to close down the dialogue box and program without thinking.

– _the first few decades passed without incident, but as the changing of the guards continued, a few malcontents gained control and brought incredible disgrace to the house of Odin, I knew not what had happened, excepting to say that four Aesir forfeited their lives and seven were banished – _

Feeling slightly nauseous, Clint eased himself out of the chair and managed to beat it to the kitchen sink before he threw up. Buzzing in his ears. His feet felt detached from a very floaty head.

– _stay on Svartalheim proved no better – _

For a moment, he just stood there, breathing heavily through his nose. Trying to corral his thoughts. Recalling the less gory details.

– _hunted for sport like an animal and taught the heavy price of humility, which he had attempted to place upon Midgard's mortals. That he failed was inconsequential. I pleaded. Father also worked hard to change his sentence –_

Breathe. In. Out.

– _only option was to place him in a dark pit, far from the corrupt influences of the court and the discontent of the Dark Elves. This proved a quiet time for us, but the toll it took on Loki's mind was too great, I fear –_

Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. And focus on the distant narrator's voice. Push away the fantastically cruel scenes which rose in his mind (Clint knew, he had seen enough of humanity's dark side to know what it could look like). Bring to mind something else. Something else. Anything else.

_**He stared down at Who-ville!  
The Grinch popped his eyes!  
Then he shook!  
What he saw was a shocking surprise! **_

_**Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,  
Was singing! Without any presents at all!  
He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming!  
IT CAME!  
Somehow or other, it came just the same! **_

Trying to remember Coulson. How he used to smile. How excited he had been to be able to watch over the sleeping superhero Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America. How he always retained a child-like enthusiasm for the good things in life despite the overwhelming pressures of his job. How he had maintained integrity in a world so easily skewed. How he had laid there propped up against the wall, with a hole in his chest where the sceptre had stabbed him through.

He tried to remember all the names of the men and women he had killed in the name of Loki's justice. Even the German security guards – and the unfortunate bystanders in New York.

Down the hall, he could hear the song. It felt so wrong. So dissonant. _How could Loki sit and listen to that?_ Clint washed his puke down the drain quickly, spritzed the stainless steel a couple times before leaving it sparking clean, without a trace of his distress. Mouth washed out with a cupful of water, face carefully wiped and free from expression, Clint rejoined Loki and watched the ex-God watch the rest of the show.

_**And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,  
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?  
It came without ribbons! It came without tags!  
"It came without packages, boxes or bags!"  
And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.  
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!  
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.  
"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!" **_

Loki was still there. Still tall. Still lanky. Still underfed. Still tense and twitchy (and Clint now could not claim ignorance but understand why that was and feel the unwelcome emotion of pity and sympathy). Still pathetic. Still wearing an amalgam of Steve's too-baggy shirts with Thor's leather, too-baggy pants. Still annoying. Still... still Loki.

And yet not.

_**And what happened then...?  
Well...in Who-ville they say  
That the Grinch's small heart  
Grew three sizes that day!  
And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight,  
He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light  
And he brought back the toys! And the food for the feast!  
And he... **_

_**...HE HIMSELF...!  
The Grinch carved the roast beast!**_

Across Loki's face played a small smile, as the taller man – ex-God – leaned back and watched the final scenes play out. The sight of Max getting a well-deserved slice of meat brought a sharp chuckle, which caused Clint to blink a little and then tap his fingers nervously.

_I know that he has had a chance to change. I know that so far, he has done nothing to incur more punishment than what he has already received. And now, now..._ Clint sighed. _Now I have no excuse but to admit that it is the truth – that Loki has received his just desserts. A thousand times over. _

_**Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer,**_

_**cheer to all Whos far and near,**_

_**Christmas Day is in our grasp,  
so long as we have hands to clasp.**_

The archer rubbed his face tiredly and considered his options. He could just blurt it out.

"_Hey, yo. About the whole hating you thing – well, I don't like you – don't think I will ever take you out for a night on the town – but I'm not going to stab you through the eye with an arrow anytime soon. Capiche?"_

Or maybe not.

"_Hey, Loki. About that whole out for your blood thing. Well, let's just call that quits and um, water under the bridge and all that. I kinda looked up one of your files – just to find out where you come from and all that – and I got this added dialogue box for some reason – just popped up by accident – blame JARVIS! I couldn't help but read a few general things about your, um, sentence and I just wanna say that we can call it even. OK?"_

Yeah. He might as well put his head in a guillotine and pull the cord.

"Well," Loki's voice broke into Clint's thoughts like a gunshot, making the archer jump a bit. The ex-god frowned as he noticed how tense Clint was. "I was going to say that it was interesting – but perhaps you did not enjoy it, Barton?"  
"Uhh... it's a cool show," Clint said, flapping a hand. "I've seen it a thousand times."

Loki eyed the archer before returning his gaze to the rolling credits.

"You seem pale."  
"That's my line," Clint shot back and then sighed.

_This is going to be hard._

"So..."  
"About –"

Their voices clashed and they fell silent. The DVD player clicked off. Clint stared hard at the black screen of the now-shut off iPad. Loki picked at the fringe which hung off the cheery red and green blanket which Jane had thrown over the armchair.

"What are you up to for the rest of the afternoon?" Clint finally ventured, deciding to start with a more or less neutral topic.

_Although Loki can make any topic seem like a powder keg_, he thought to himself sourly.

"Lady Pepper has decided to no longer inflict useless activities on me," Loki said with relish and a small smirk. Then he paused and added. "Not that they were entirely without interest."  
"You liked the sledding and snowboarding, didn't you? You were a natural at it."

There, he had complimented the ex-God without barfing, sounding sarcastic or patronizing or even fake. He should get an award for this. _Employee of the Year. Or something._ Thor's report swam into his mind and he forced down bile. _Right. There's that too._

"You mean that in earnest," Loki frowned, now turning to fully gaze at the archer head on, his green eyes troubled and eyebrows furrowed.  
"Well," Clint twitched. "Objectively speaking... you are... very well... you are... you have the natural ability to snowboard – no doubt due to your, um, physique. I said as much before. Ask anyone."  
"Indeed," Loki replied dryly. "Pardon me if I am not inclined to believe you regardless."  
"That's OK," Clint sighed. "I've been a bit of an ass, haven't I?"

Loki didn't reply. Just cocked his head and stared at Clint.

"You saw something. Or heard something," he finally guessed, voice hardening and fingers clenching the arms of his chair rather hard, as his legs moved around, leaving the ex-God tense-backed and rigid. "My brother. Did he say something to you?"  
"No – no no nononono," Clint shook his head emphatically. "Nothing of that sort. Well, not really. I noticed something in the SHIELD's database. Something very vague and even though it was vague, it was... disturbing."  
"About my incarceration," Loki sagged back, suddenly looking tired. "So now you pity me instead of giving me the honour of your hate."  
"Uhhhh... You want me to hate you?" Clint blinked. "Don't you think that's – well, bad?"  
"At least you see me for what I am. At least you recognize what I am capable of."

Clint found he had lost all ability to speak for a few long minutes. A minute of that time was spent wishing he had Tony Stark's ability to babble or Steve Roger's ability to say something right. There was just him – and not even cool Natasha was around. _She's another of those types who always knows what to say._

"You know that's fucked up, right?" Clint finally said, going for broke and honesty. "I was, when I was a kid, I was in the circus – that's where I first started honing my... you know, my skills."

Loki raised his eyes and nodded slowly.

"When I was there... I was troubled to say the least. I didn't have a home. I didn't have much of friends or family like normal people. There was The Family. The circus family. You know what a circus is? It's like travelling entertainment."  
"Ah. A lowly occupation, I expect?"  
"Yes. People would look at us like we were nothing – you know. It was like they were looking at us – but through us. We were, um, well, entertainment. Nothing more. And I was one small boy in a large group of people – always afraid that my usefulness would end and I would end up on my ass on the streets. So I did everything I could to make sure I was remembered. Good stuff and shit too. Depended on my mood. When I was younger, I was scared. I did my best to behave. When I got older and stronger and angrier, I got into a heck of a lot of trouble. It's – well, those psychotherapists who drive me nuts say that it's normal for boys like us – for people like us who fear abandonment." Clint frowned at his hands before glancing back up at Loki's carefully blank face. "So, I don't know why you came down to Earth – you know, no one really asked what the hell you were doing. I mean. We knew you wanted to subjugate it. For our good. But even I didn't know why you wanted people kneeling and all that shit. For their own good, you said. You didn't really believe that – did you? Thor said you said to him that you never wanted to be king."

A pause.

"Thor says a lot," Loki finally replied. "He is like a creature who can only mimic others and he parrots my words dutifully, no doubt – but he can never know my intentions."  
"Well, if you had other motivations, now's a good time to speak up about them," Clint shrugged.  
"Why should it matter? The ends cannot justify the means, is that not what they say on Midgard? And also, such evil can never be justified in any remote sense? And why worry about my motivations? After all, your band of merry men and heroes came together as a team against me and happily saved the Earth. What more can you want?"  
"The truth?"  
"What is truth?" Loki scoffed. "And to ask truth of the God of Lies? Foolishness."  
"Ex."  
"Pardon."  
"Ex-God of Lies. You don't have magic in you right now. Like – not really. And you're on the way to being like Scrooge and the Grinch. Bad dudes who shaped up, right? That's what you want, right?"  
"Perhaps," Loki shrugged. "I would be a fool indeed to tell you my hopes and dreams, such as they are."  
"Well, sure," Clint agreed. "Anyways, yeah. I read a little of what you went through – and it seems pretty, well, drastic. Not right. It doesn't sit right with me. And don't laugh. I'm not joking. You know I'm saying it for real." Clint shook his head. "It's messed up – and you and I, we like it simple in some ways, but we know what it means to be complicated. That it hurts – that things are never what we'd like them to be. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is – for the snowball thing and those remarks I made, about your mom and you and stuff, I'm sorry. More or less. And I'll try to lay it off. But I'm still mad at you. We aren't buddies or whatever, right? And if you fuck up again, I'll be right behind you with my arrow ready."

Loki smiled then and rose to his feet gracefully. His face smooth, green eyes unreadable – but his chin had lowered, his hands were lax at his sides and his back straight. Meeting Clint's eyes, he nodded.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

With that, he left the room, leaving an exhausted Clint behind, slumped against his armchair. Loki, disappearing into his bedroom, shook his head with disbelief. Beyond all reason, this Midgardian festival was working miracles. Before the end of it, everyone would be eating out of his hand and he – _he would scratch and claw his way back to the top, curry favour, appear the meekest he had ever been to date. Shed a tear. Visit his mother. Truths mixed with lies. And on that day he received his magic, he would return to wreck his vengeance. He would show them the price of pity and remind them of what it meant to be Aesir. Or Jotun. Or neither. Remind them again of what Loki of Asgard was capable of._

Loki sat on his bed, looked out the window and sighed.

_Or maybe not._

-0-0-0-

Four hours later, Clint knocked on Loki's door. Pulling it open, Loki scowled at the shorter man and then realized that Pepper and Tony were hovering behind him, looking anxious. He glanced at the clock. Five o'clock in the evening.

_Ah yes._ He had almost forgotten. It was time for him to shoulder his burden – shopping for a Christmas gift. If Clint had successfully gotten him a gift (and he had it on good authority, that is, Steve Rogers, that Clint would behave himself), there was no way he could falter in his duty either. No matter the fact that the one he would give to was above all the thing he feared.

The Hulk.  
The Green Rage Monster, according to Tony.  
The Other Guy, according to Bruce.

_Except, I'm not buying for the Beast_, Loki reminded himself for the thousandth time._ I am buying it for the good man, the doctor. For Banner's Son. For Bruce. He, of all people, deserves some Christmas cheer in a world that cannot accept him anymore than they can accept me. Still, if I do not give him a proper gift – will he become angry and unable to control himself? Surely not... _

_Pathetic, Loki, pathetic_, he told himself, as he scurried after Pepper and Tony into the elevator and down to the garage. Slipping into the backseat of a very utilitarian vehicle – black and silver and definitely less flashy than Stark's usual conveyances, Loki wondered how long this trip would take, if they would actually find something, if they would end up on yet another ridiculous adventure.

He hoped not. There were not many days until Christmas – and if he were to trust Thor's words, there were other troubles on the horizon to consider. Loki sighed and rubbed his face before turning his gaze outward to the passing cars and trucks and other Midgardian vehicles which rushed down the large roads and small streets of New York. The lifeblood of the city, sleek and glittering and dirty underneath the ever present lowering clouds and flashing lights. Odoriferous gas and smoke rose toward the heavens and in this, Loki could see the representation of what Midgard stood for – glory and corruption swirling together in an endless cycle. Chaos incarnate, some would say. Loki approved.

Back to the other troubles, Loki steered his mind to Thor's warning. _Some ridiculous being called Doctor Doom. Who is he in reality? Was he here the last time I visited Earth? Doctor Doom... Doom. With a ridiculous name such as that, how can anyone take him seriously? And the Avengers believe that keeping such information from me will protect me – and them. Fools. Un-trusting fools. As if I could do anything with the knowledge of a ridiculous creature such as this Doctor Doom, either for him or against him. _

_Of course, they would not tell you_, said that dark part of his mind, which had been less and less vocal lately, but no less venomous over time. _Have you given them any reason for trust?_

_Well, they haven't given me a chance to show how I could earn their trust_, he pointed out.

_And do you think they would ever give you that chance? I think not. They may be fools – but not that foolish, surely._

_It matters not. Their lack of trust will in the end be their undoing._

_Undoing? Certainly. Mayhap their so-called precious Christmas will be ruined by this self-proclaimed Doom. Then, they may stand in the wreckage of their city and their lights and their garlands and their meaningless trifles. And you shall rejoice as a wail rises – _He could feel a cackle of dark enjoyment rising.

_No, you will not._ Loki disagreed. _And they will not either. More than likely, as kind-hearted fools, they will, like those imbeciles in the child's story, stand hand in hand and sing with joy in the miracle of their survival. And if they were to die in battle_, Loki hesitated and imagined Stark Towers empty. _If they were to die._ Presents unopened. Rooms bare and grey in the falling light. A disembodied voice for company. Metal and concrete and empty sky above. And nothing else.

No he could not wish such a thing on himself – or them.

Shuddering to a stop, snow crunching underneath the wheels, the car came to a stop in a crowded parking lot. Pepper, unstrapping herself, looked back at Loki and paused at the sight of him, looking out of his window, which was tinted just a little at the edges with frost. _A lost look, perhaps it's a memory_, she thought.

"Loki," she said softly. "We're here."  
"Ready to go, Reindeer Games?" Tony glanced at Loki through the rear-view mirror, frowning as the ex-God jerked to attention. "Remember, if you want to kill a small kid or something, let me know and we'll hide out in Starbucks. Cake pops all around. You can soar above your usual anti-brat homicidal urges. I always want to wipe out a few of those myself. You got your money on you? Alright. Right. OK. Let's do this."

Within half an hour, the three of them were shaking their heads as they browsed the men's clothing store which Tony had averred Bruce liked to shop at. Lots of collared shirts, dress pants and comfortable, brown jackets. But nothing seemed to feel right and Loki ended up standing in the corner of the warehouse-like store, green eyes wide as his gaze wandered over the plethora of choices.

"This kinda sucks," Tony sighed, shaking his head, easing past Pepper as she held up yet another grey-brown jacket and frowned. "Nothing seems to be clicking, huh, Rudolph. I guess you want to get something a bit more... personal, right? Hm. Well. Let's brainstorm. I'm the king of good ideas. Between you and I, we should be able to come up with the mother of all gifts for Bruce. Hm. What do you think of when you think of Bruce? I think awesome Green Rage Monster and general science-y stuff. What do you think of, when you see him? Well, I guess you see the Hulk too. Seeing as you and he had such a great bonding time the last you saw of each other."  
"Banner's Son is not merely the Hulk."  
"Well, that's true. Thank goodness."  
"There is more to him than Beast. There is also his kindness. Foolish mortal that he is," Loki frowned. "But kind. He is a doctor – which surprised me."  
"I guess the last time you saw him, you didn't see him at his best. Kinda handed out the booboos, huh."  
"'Booboos?'"  
"Injuries."  
"Ah." Pause. "Indeed."  
"But he does kinda feel bad about it," Tony said. "He always feels bad about it. Afterwards, you know."  
"Yes." Loki glanced at Tony from under a quirked eyebrow. "I know." A pause. "Perhaps something that would aid his charitable acts would not be amiss."  
"Ohhhhh..." Tony threw up his hands as an idea came to him at Loki's words. "Oh! Pepper! I got it! I got it! You know how Bruce has been complaining about how his stethoscope got really battered the last time –"  
"Well, you did step on it," Pepper said mildly, putting a pair of pants back on the rack and devoting her attention on her excitable boyfriend.  
"Isn't it perfect?" Tony smiled. "I'm a genius. Tell me I'm a genius."  
"You're a genius, Tony," laughed Pepper.  
"I refuse to add more weight to an already overweening ego," sniffed Loki. "Particularly since I have not yet decided on the merit of your so-called plan. What is your idea, Stark?"  
"It's his stethoscope. We can get a new one. Let's ask JARVIS and see where we can get one. And we'll hop over and wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, we've got the most awesome gift for Loki to give Bruce. Nothing like a stethoscope to say, let's be non-combative friends."  
"Stethoscope?"  
"Ah, well, Rudolph, I guess you don't have those in Asgard either, huh. Um. It's a mechanical device which allows us to hear our hearts beat. Perfect, right?"  
"Very well. And we can get this device with ease?"  
"With JARVIS's help, yeah." Tony's fingers were already flying on his Stark phone. "Just give us half a moment. Pepper, we better head to the car – let's drop in at a Starbucks on our way. OK. JARVIS is on it. Starbucks and then stethoscope and then, thank God, home."

-0-0-0-

When Pepper, Tony and Loki returned home, the ex-God of Mischief was looking incredibly satisfied with himself. Not only had he been able to get the Son of Banner a gift, it was a marvellous gift – an incredible invention (he tested it out himself) which would no doubt be accepted with the spirit in which it had been given. There was the small matter of preparing the gift – wrapping it in the cheery paper which had recently been strewn about the various floors of the penthouse Tony called home. However, Pepper had offered a helping hand in that arena.

He grinned to himself, revelling in the short-lived feeling of merriment – something he had enjoyed as the Trickster of Asgard. This wasn't a trick, per se, but it was a surprise. Loki liked surprises. Rather, he loved springing them on the unwary. Bruce would never see this one coming. That and the "gag gift" which Tony and he had come up with for the scientist's stocking... (What a stocking was, Loki had yet to find out, but Pepper told him that they would hang their stockings up on the morrow.)

Loki could hardly wait.

Still, he took care as he closely watched Pepper wrap a mysterious box for Jane – his fingers mimicking her movements slowly but surely. Tape and other forms of fastenings, including a genteel black and green bow, were added to the dark green and red paper. Then, a small card affixed to the top simply ascribed "To Bruce, from Santa's emissary" in his usual spiky handwriting.

_Would it remain a surprise?_ He couldn't know for certain. After all, these mortals were not without their... ways of infiltration and devious plans. Pepper had instituted a no gift-shaking-touching-poking-spying policy for the entire building and around the tree had been assigned a continual no-go zone which was supposed to hinder many of the curious Avengers (read: Clint and Tony) from leaning over to get a glimpse of the name tags. The ever-watchful guard, JARVIS, ensured that any who broke the 'rules' would be immediately put on Pepper's (and no doubt, Santa Claus's) black list. Still, Loki wouldn't put it past them to figure out some way to get around such restrictions.

With that in mind, Loki made certain to bury his gift among the others, his fingers cautiously easing the other gifts away (without looking like he was shaking, poking or spying on their contents). _If I had magic_, he thought, this would hardly be an issue. His small chuckle died as his hand slipped his gift to Banner's Son under a garish gift. It's card had been sloppily applied – labelled in neat writing: To Loki from Tony. Beside it, another one. To Loki from Jane.

They had gotten him gifts. Jerking back he rose to his feet, feeling unsettled and a little dizzy. _Did they think to buy my affection and loyalty with trifles?_ He thought. _No. _They already had him where they wanted him, surely._ No. Jane would not wish for that. _It had been given, no doubt, in the usual woolly-headed-ness he had thought would only be symptomatic of his brother._ Idiots. Fools. Kind fools._

He rubbed his face, double-checking surreptitiously (he hoped) that he had not begun to cry as he backed away. _What can I give them back?_ Loki bit his lip. _I have nothing to offer them – even if I believe them to deserve something._ He sighed – and then found a small smile working its way onto his face against his will. _A gift. Gifts. Plural. Thor will of course have gotten me one as well. At minimum, three then. Three. Four, if Barton has done right by me for the Secret Santa._ Loki moved over to the couch and sat down, feeling a little light-headed and gleeful.

_I am excited_, he tried to frown at himself. _Idiotic creature. To behave like a child._ He leaned back and enjoyed the quiet of the room, the sound of the artificial flickering sounds emanating from the television screen's fireplace which Pepper and Tony loved to leave on at all hours. In the kitchen, he could hear Natasha, Jane and Thor laughing over something. Warm chocolate hung in the air. Clint and Steve were throwing darts down the hallway at someone's door. Stark's, judging by the voice of protest emanating from the rich man. Bruce emerged from the elevator, hands clutching his glasses, some papers and the usual pad, looking satisfied and relaxed. The greying scientist paused at the sight of Loki laying back, bonelessly in the chair, contentment wreathing the thin, usually fractious face. Loki's eyes opened, green and dark in the gathering gloom of the room.

They said nothing, but Bruce went to his room, dumped off his stuff and rejoined the ex-God to quietly sit with him in the living room. JARVIS turned on some quiet music, an amalgam apparently since following a crooning ballad on a blue Christmas, there were the familiar strains of the concert's music. _The Messiah. That was what Steve called it._ Loki said nothing. Neither did Bruce.

Loki's thoughts returned to the gifts below the tree. _His gifts._ Jane's words came to mind.

_A life so short, that every minute is like a – a – precious jewel. You want to hold onto each golden moment. Such happiness is so rare and so desperately looked for, when you find it, you don't let it go. You never let it go. _

He understood now.

_Let the villain Doom stay away this Christmas_, he raised a prayer to the deaf Norns. _Not merely for my sake, but also for theirs. If he destroys this time I am offered – if he takes away these chances from all of us, I will take such vengeance on him, even __He__ will have nothing to play with when he returns. Yes, this Doctor Doom, this self-appointed protagonist shall remember what it means to face a god of Asgard, even one such as fallen as myself. I will find within me the power to remind him of his place in the scheme of things. Loki may be Loki of Nothing and be nothingness himself, yet this is a place to cherish even for a short time. To keep this illusion or to make this nebulous vision real, I will do anything_, he vowed, remembering the homeless men, Jane's hand in his, Pepper's cake and the baby in his hands.

_**Christmas Day will always be  
just as long as we have we.  
Welcome Christmas, while we stand  
heart to heart and hand in hand.**_

* * *

**Uh. Right. **

**LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! REVIEW!  
**

**So next up...**

**Stockings. Egg nog. The Night Before Christmas read-aloud. Christmas Eve Mass. Hopefully some development with Natasha. (A long time in coming, I know)... And...**

**THE ARRIVAL OF... someone... _  
_**


	34. Part Two: If You Want It

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Reply to reviewers:**

**To GUEST: I'm so honoured that you reviewed when you normally don't. I'm so glad that you are enjoying my little fic – and my babbling Tony! It's great to hear from you – and I hope you enjoy the end as much as you enjoy the beginning!**

**A shorter chapter – but that's OK. We are now set for the end of the fic, I think. Hm. Yes. **

**THANKS TO EVERYONE! Especially to those who reviewed and gave me a shout out and said they're loving it. I feel so encouraged by this fandom and the love people have. It's so awesome and inspiring!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 34  
Part Two: If You Want It

"A very Merry Xmas  
And a happy New Year  
Let's hope it's a good one  
Without any fear  
War is over, if you want it  
War is over now"

("Happy Christmas (War Is Over) – sung by Maroon 5)

It was a creamy looking liquid. If he peered closely, Loki could see faint specks of brown within the foam of the cool drink Jane had poured for him. On his right, Natasha was also staring into her own glass, eyes distant and far away. _Some memory, I suppose_, he thought. Her gaze then shifted suddenly to meet his.

"Memories in your eggnog?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at him, amused.  
"I could say the same for you," Loki said, raising his glass to his lips, sipping the new beverage experimentally.

The creamy, smooth liquid rolled over his tongue, spreading around his mouth and down his throat. Eggnog. _What a deliciously flavourful drink..._ _There's a faint spicing about it. _Tony was offering some kind of whiskey or liquor (Irish Baileys, he had said, as if Midgardian names should hold meaning), but Loki thought the drink more than adequate on its own.

"Clint's... different. Relaxed." Natasha murmured. 'Lately. Since the day before yesterday, I mean. You guys talked, I'm guessing."  
"Yes. In a way, I suppose we had a few words."  
"Sometimes only a few words are needed." Natasha tipped her head. "Whatever you said, it worked. Thanks for that."  
"Self-preservation," Loki shrugged and accepted another refill from Pepper. Took a sip, blinked and raised his eyebrow at Tony who winked back. "Hem." Pause. "Yes."  
"You weren't in any real danger," Natasha replied.  
Loki snorted disbelievingly. "Pardon me for disagreeing with you on that point – I was – am – was never certain of my position here, even after I was invited."  
"Well, yes. He was an ass – and definitely crossed the line a few times. But Clint – well, he'd never actually kill you."  
"Well, of course not," Loki sniffed. "I am a god – and am invincible –"  
"Uh, cut the crap, Loki," Natasha sighed. "You were starving – maybe not to death – but to discomfort. And very weak. And you shouldn't have been put in that position. And yet, you've... proved yourself beyond all doubt –"  
"Not enough for your organization."  
"Well, no. But don't take offence," the red-head sighed. "They don't even trust us."  
"I see."  
"Yeah, so, I do have to say thank you. Maybe you did do it out of self-preservation – but having a more relaxed Clint makes this holiday much easier for me. I wanted to thank you for that."  
"Then, you are welcome," Loki nodded and directed his gaze at his drink again. "I am glad we can both come to an understanding of some sort. You were also very... restrained, all things considering."  
"I believe that it's best to stay neutral until the situation settles," Natasha responded to the unspoken question. "Sometimes, if we just let our emotions get away from us, we end up hurting not only ourselves but the ones around us we care about."  
"Yes."

He knew all about that. Pepper's voice cut through the chatter as she held up a cheerful red and white piece of cloth which looked like a malformed stocking. Loki frowned – his sigh joining with Natasha. They glanced at each other in surprise and then turned away quickly, identical quick smiles crossing their faces.

"Hanging our stocking time! Tony, this is yours. Jane. Do you have one? Want one? I got a bunch, just in case..." Pepper was already dragging Tony out into the living room, the others following her. Jane disappeared into Thor and her suite, only to emerge with three identical stockings in her hands. "Oh! Wow! They are... you got them personalized?"  
"Yeah, I know. Aren't they gorgeous? JARVIS helped. As usual."

Jane held up a lovely red and green stocking, emblazoned across the top white lace trimming with the word "JANE" in lovely cursive. Leaning forward, she handed a red and gold one to Thor. It was bigger than hers – the lettering in a lovely gold across a white velvet trim. Thor's face lit up, his blue eyes sparkling as he surveyed the stocking. Loki grimaced. _Of course the idiot is already happy – even though he has no idea what it is for. _

"And this one is for you," Jane smiled. "I kinda had to ask Thor and look at a few reels of footage to figure out a colour scheme – how about it? You think... it's OK?" She ended hesitantly. "If you don't like it..."

Loki eyed the offending material and then took it carefully into his hands. It was a deep forest green. The colour was his favourite. Thor, unbelievably, had been paying attention then. The edging was silver. And black. Subdued, yet regal. His name, written in silver on a black velvet edging along the top, looked...

"What do you think?" Jane asked anxiously.  
"It is... adequate," Loki replied reluctantly. "Quite... tasteful. I have seen worse."  
"Thanks," replied the young woman with a large smile, accepting the unspoken compliment. "I'm glad. So, you know what we do with them? We hang them here..." She guided the two brothers over to a line which Pepper had erected with Steve's help a week or two back. "And in the morning, we wake up to find it stuffed with little things."  
"Like gag gifts," Pepper suggested to Loki.

Loki's face lit up when he remembered his gag gift for Bruce. It would be perfect for a stocking. Quickly, the ex-God of Mischief scoped out the line of stockings. Traditional red and white ones for Natasha and Clint. Tony's glittered with something called 'sequins'. Multicoloured. _As tacky as the man's humour at times._ Pepper's stocking had more taste – red, green and white stripes edged with silver. Bruce's stocking was mainly green, with a little bit of red trim. Loki smirked to himself as Bruce sighed over it.

_Both he and I find these traditions to be tiring_, Loki mused. _Of course, I am loathe to celebrate an unimpressive Midgardian festival – but this is important to the mortals. Perhaps, Bruce's past holds dark memories during these days..._

"Your green is just a little lighter than mine," Loki said, his mouth moving before he could keep it shut.

_What am I doing? Get a hold of yourself, Loki!_

No such luck. It was if his tongue had a mind of its own. Disconcerting to say the least.

"Although the red trimming is rather regrettable."  
"Yeah..." Bruce said, holding up Loki's stocking, turning it over in his hands. "You've got an awesome stocking. Pretty rad."  
"Lady Jane had it commissioned," Loki smiled proudly. "I am glad my brother has chosen someone who has good taste in fashion."  
"She's pretty awesome that way. And smart, too."  
"Like you."

Bruce glanced at Loki and raised a grey eyebrow inquiringly. Obviously confused and then his face smoothed out and he found himself chuckling a little. Loki frowned, his dark eyebrows knitting together.

"What is it?" he huffed.  
"Nothing. It's not you," Bruce hastily explained. "Not really. Just... realizing how strange it has gotten around here. You here. With a stocking. Celebrating Christmas. Against all expectation, enjoying yourself... and trying to cheer me up."  
"You are not the only one surprised," Loki murmured, his fingers fingering Thor's stocking's edging. "If you had asked me a year ago this time if I could imagine myself to be here, in your presence, as a – well, as neutral acquaintance –"  
"A friend, one day," Bruce said softly.  
"Perhaps. Well, if you had said as much, I would have laughed. As I tore your heart out."  
"Don't think the Hulk would let you get that close."  
"I mean it metaphorically."  
"Ah. Right." Bruce nodded. "Well, I guess it just tells you that in the end, there's always hope for us. We can change – but it depends on us, in the end. What do we choose to be?"  
"Choice," Loki frowned again. "That is not a luxury I have enjoyed in a long... long, long, long time."  
"Yeah. I guessed as much."  
"And if you believe the Norns, there is only doom to face and the matter of having the courage to pass through it."  
"Wow. Depressing," Bruce frowned. "But I can't believe that. Not fully anyways. You have a choice – for yourself. About yourself. Maybe you can't change everything. Maybe things get out of control. It's how you respond that matters. How you respond is what defines you – it shows you for who you really are."  
"Hmmm..."

Bruce's eyes glanced over to the rest of the group who had moved over to the bar, then his gaze flickered over the empty couches, the dim soft glow of lamps turned on by JARVIS, the fine artwork, the comforting, now-familiar lines of interior design so Pepper and Tony. The large screen. The flickering fireplace offering an image of ye old ancient days when there were flues and smokey hearths and bright flames and the sound of wood crackling. And there was the tree in all of its glory, the white angel on top, gifts underneath the branches – crowded and packed and so tempting. Loki was still glaring at Thor's stocking. _Or something in his memory, more than likely_, Bruce sighed. _This guy thinks too much – he gives Tony and I a run for our money. Seriously._

"Like, you know, the, um, the Other Guy. That whole situation is just... it's crap, right. Something that I can't change – something I regret – something I'll regret until the day I die or whatever. But, what's important is what the me of the now, the present – what that me decides to do with my life. Am I going to take out my rage and self-hatred out on the people I love? Am I going to live up to the expectations of the bastards who are more than ready to stick me in a cage and drop me into the ocean somewhere – or worse, experiment on me? Or am I going to try to make peace with the world and myself and choose to help others around me and stop focusing on self-pity and hatred and fear?"

Loki let the stocking go and glanced at Bruce then. Bruce was contemplating the glass of eggnog in his hand – that or his feet. The ex-God nodded slowly then and shifted on his feet uneasily, not certain how to respond to that. Did he expect a response?

"Anyways," Bruce laughed then, a short, sharp, unhappy laugh. "That said, I guess that means that my Christmas isn't going to get better if my attitude doesn't change, huh?"  
"Hey, big guy," Tony was swanning over, eggnog pitcher in hand. "Wants some more? Where's your glass, Loki?"  
"Over here," Thor hurried over with a glass in hand. "You forgot it in the kitchen, little brother."  
"I am not your brother, Thor," Loki said absently.  
"Unless you do not wish for eggnog," Thor hesitated, pulling back a bit.  
"No, it is... rather... tasty," Loki replied with a small smile, which sparked a returning wide smile from Thor. "Although the alcohol in the second serving did give it a bit of an extra –"  
"TONY!" Pepper protested as she finally taste-tested her own glass. "You did not?"  
"What?" Tony tried to look innocent and failed. "OK. Bruce. You're up."  
"Bruce is reading this year."  
"Make it funny," Clint egged the quiet scientist on. "Paki style or something."  
"Uh, Clint," Steve sighed. "That's not appropriate."  
"I'm going to read it normally," Bruce said. "And quickly too. I am not going to make it a one hour show like two years ago. We all remember that one, Tony. We'll never forget."  
"Or forgive," Natasha added.  
"C'mon guys!" Tony protested. "You have no sense of style."  
"It was a bit long," Pepper agreed. "Sit down in the armchair, Bruce. Loki. You take this seat. No, no, no. You don't have to sit on the floor, seriously. We've got enough chairs – when – thanks, Steve!" Steve was already returning from the kitchen with a few more chairs in hand. "There you go. Everyone ready? OK, Bruce. You can start anytime."

Opening a large, heavily illustrated book, Bruce settled his glasses more firmly on his nose before beginning, his usually quiet voice raised a little as the poetic tale spilled from his lips.

"'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house  
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;  
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,  
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there..."

Loki listened with half an ear, eyeing the illustrations which Bruce showed at odd moments, content instead to just sit on the edge of the group, Steve on one side of him. It reminded him of how the bards would tell their tales during the festivals and dinners at his father's court. _Odin's court. Odin All-father's court._ He sighed. Back then, the noise would undoubtedly rise toward the end, as the carousing got out of hand – and even thought or day-dreaming was impossible to achieve for mental escape. Here, he could sit back and think and ponder Bruce's words.

_...what's important is what the me of the now, the present – what that me decides to do with my life..._

Heavy words indeed.

-0-0-0-

Later on that evening, around eleven o'clock, Loki agreed to go with the rest to Steve's 'church' for a midnight mass. At first it was a Steve and Loki outing – but then, Natasha wanted to tag along and it became a whole thing. Not that Bruce, Thor or Tony had any real interest – but a man (or in Thor's case, a god) knew better than to disagree with one's woman. Before Loki knew it, he was sitting by Steve, looking up at a familiar, high-vaulted ceiling, tracing the lines of buttresses and flying arches. Feeling that, once again, he was in a regal, majestic place more suited to Asgard. And it was dedicated to a god. Not one of them, if he went by Steve's description.

_**The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone. You have brought them abundant joy and great rejoicing, As they rejoice before you as at the harvest, as men make merry when dividing spoils. For the yoke that burdened them, the pole on their shoulder, And the rod of their taskmaster you have smashed, as on the day of Midian. For every boot that tramped in battle, every cloak rolled in blood, will be burned as fuel for flames.**_

_Still, whatever, whoever this is for,_ Loki smiled to himself,_ it is an amazing spectacle._ He cradled the candle which had been handed to him and lit. Around him, thousands of candles flickered in the drafts which moved up from the back, where grand oak doors opened and closed creakily as yet more visitors trickled in. _There was no timepiece in the place. Fitting, I suppose, for a place of worship. _

At the front, many high priests or whatever they were called, congregated regally, performing arcane rituals involving water and incense and other unfamiliar, yet familiar things. There were statues at the front as well – the figures of a mother and a child. Winged beings. And along the walls and set into the windows in the familiar coloured glass – depictions of ancient men and women, alien creatures and weeping ones. _Unsettlingly alien, yet... _When he listened to the words, the entire atmosphere was oddly comforting.

_**For a child is born to us, a son is given us; upon his shoulder dominion rests. They name him Wonderful-Counsellor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace. His dominion is vast and forever peaceful, From David's throne, and over his kingdom, which he confirms and sustains..**_

_Perhaps, long ago, this was a super being_, he mused. _I should ask Steve about this – or this is Odin All-Father's doing. An ancient depiction of him from long ago. Although I would not call Odin the Prince of Peace._ Loki remembered his tutor's tales about the attack on Jotunheim. Thought of the feel of Gugnir in his palms as he fired at the savage face of the creature who had never known that his own killer was the unwanted runt he had abandoned so long ago. His blood-father who had disintegrated into nothing. His mother's relief. Thor's look of betrayal. _No, in the end, my own reign was short-lived. And not so peaceful. I did not achieve what I hoped. There was no equality. No admission of my abilities. No affirmation for which I had craved. There was only denial. And I made a choice. I let go._ Loki glared at his blurring hands and blinked furiously, hoping that he would not show weakness in front of so many.

_**O God, who have made this most sacred night  
radiant with the splendour of the true light,  
grant, we pray, that we, who have known the mysteries of his light on earth  
may also delight in his gladness in heaven.  
Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,  
one God, for ever and ever. **_

_**Amen. **_

_What would have happened if I had not let go?_

-0-0-0-

After the responses and the singing, which Loki contented himself with just listening to, there was a short speech on the part of some mortal dressed in white and red and other bizarre vestments. A reading and then a homily, Steve had whispered. Loki had never heard of 'homily' before – but the reading (from some ancient text) did explain a lot about the mother and child symbolism. It was an interesting (if mildly dubious) story – heart-warming and seemed to be part of some greater context he could only guess at.

Thor's blue eyes, far away and distant, were not focused on the front; Loki had a feeling his broth – _Thor_ – was no doubt thinking on other things. Steve, Natasha, Pepper and Jane were actually listening. Bruce, Clint and Tony were not. All three were quietly working or playing on their infernal communication devices – their phones. Loki rolled his eyes._ If I had my magic, by targeting their communication systems alone, I would bring great suffering. Particularly for those whose lives are so intricately entwined with them._ He smirked to himself. _As a trick, it would be most amusing..._

The homily came to an end. Something about putting others before yourself. _Not that that always provides the best solution_, Loki reminded himself. _Even with the best intentions, you can go astray. In the end, it is how you go about things, as much as it is why you do them. Choices. _

When the group returned, during the early hours of the morning, everyone headed to bed right away. As he rolled into the now familiar bedsheets and duvet, Loki sighed contentedly. He lay there for a moment in the soft glow of the small light still standing on his night table and considered Bruce's words. Natasha's comments. The eggnog. The stocking. The gifts.

_The gifts._

Loki smiled and fell into a light sleep.

-0-0-0-

He woke to the sound of a klaxon, a mill of voices running up and down the hallway and then, from far away, a resounding boom. Only for a second, he lay there wondering if one of his nightmares had unfortunately come true – then, the soft night light revealed an empty room. Suddenly, Loki remembered Thor's words. _Doctor Doom. A possible attack before Christmas Day as was his wont._ Swearing in Nordic, Loki rose, grabbed his clothing and threw them on before scurrying out into the living room. Chaos.

Pepper and Jane were running around talking on the phone with a fervour bordering on panic – _which is never good_, Loki knew. Jane seemed to be attempting to calm someone called Darcy down. Pepper was assuring someone called 'Hill' that the Avengers were on their way. Bruce stood in one corner of the room, uncertainly, while the rest rushed past and around him. Loki frowned. Was the Hulk not going to join the fray from the beginning? Tony was already clanking around in his suit, threatening to leave at that very second alone if no one else got their shit together.

"Tony, you aren't going anywhere without us," Steve said. "We're doing this together. As usual."  
"Let's follow the plan," Natasha's voice was strong but calm, strapping on various guns and knives, as she brushed past them to get to the elevator. "See you guys downstairs."  
"Except for us," Tony yelled back. "Point Break and I can just go ahead and scope it out."  
"As long as that's all you are doing," Steve said.  
"Leave us some," Clint glared, grabbing three quivers and two folded bows. "Or I'll vent my holiday stress on you, Stark."  
"Hey, now," Thor said easily. "I am certain there are enough to go around –"  
"You haven't even gotten out there yet, dude."  
"Mr. Odinsson is correct," JARVIS interjected. "I can assure you that preliminary reports suggest an overwhelming –"  
"Can it, JARVIS," Tony jerked his head, moving over to the glass doors. "I'm going out."  
"See you there – but make reconnaissance primary for now," Steve nodded.

Steve, Natasha and Clint disappeared. Tony and Thor were heading out to the balcony. Bruce trailed after them, Loki hard on his heels.

"You know the protocol, Bruce," Tony said. "Get ready for the call. If JARVIS is right –"  
"And I normally am," JARVIS added.  
"I can always rewrite your programming, JARVIS," threatened the genius billionaire half-heartedly. "We'll see how you like that then. OK. You know what I'm talking about." He leaned down to give Pepper a quick kiss before turning away to speak with Bruce. "We'll mop it up in no time – but if there's something new, SHIELD will have a helicopter prepped for you."  
"I know, Tony," Bruce rolled his eyes. "We've done this a million times before."  
"Yeah, yeah," Tony's eyes rested on Thor who was drawing back from Jane (and a very big kiss) and now turning to a rather grouchy looking Loki. "But this time we have a God of Mischief sitting around at home."  
"Ex-God," Bruce reminded him. "And I'll bring him with me, if I have to. He's a big guy. Even without his magic and stuff, he'll live. Remember. The spell is still in effect."  
"Right, right. OK. Ta-ta for now!"

Tony blasted off.

-0-0-0-

"So you go off once again to battle some monster," grumbled Loki. "And I cannot come with you this time to get you out of trouble when you fail to use your head."  
"I would have you fight at my side, brother," Thor grinned, pulling Loki close to clasp him again with his familiar grip on neck and shoulder. "You were – are – one of the few I would trust at my back."  
"Even after all this time," Loki raised an eyebrow, bitter, brittle smile on his face. "Idiot."  
"As always."  
"Well, do not die like an idiot. You have a woman waiting for you, after all. And gifts."  
"There's that too," Thor agreed with a grin. "You take care of Jane. And if you go with Bruce, take care of yourself. I would not be pleased to hear that my little brother has fallen prey to some lesser creature."  
"Impossible," Loki drew back in mock-displeasure. "As if such a thing could happen. And I am not your brother."

Thor just smiled – and then he was out the door and flying away, Mjolnir firm in his grip.

"'Yes, you are, Loki,'" the ex-God of Mischief corrected himself.

-0-0-0-

For half an hour, there was no word. A helicopter landed. A nondescript pilot jumped out and waited at the bar (with a soda) to wait for word from JARVIS as to whether the Hulk would be needed. Pepper paced up and down and watched the news – such as it was. Jerky camera footage of wounded New Yorkers in Central Park and far away photos and phone-vids of foreign looking space-bots. Not exactly what you wanted to see on Christmas Eve.

Or Christmas Day. Or whatever.

Jane had finally gotten off the phone, managing to get her friend (someone called Darcy) to believe that she, Jane, was quite securely and comfortably ensconced in Stark Towers.

Bruce had laid a jacket, hat, scarf and mitts on the armchair he now sat in, prepared to depart at a moments notice. His eyes too never left the news, obviously concerned – whenever a camera suddenly focused on a blur of red jet across the sky, or a glimpse of blue. Snow clouds had gathered even more thickly above the giant metropolis. Here and there, lightning sparked – a sign of Thor's powers at work, which made Loki even more tense and jumpy than usual.

Just as a walkie-talkie blared from the direction of the bar, JARVIS announced that Director Fury was on the line. The Hulk was going to move out.

"Take me with you," Loki said, following the short scientist out to the helicopter, pulling on his own coat. "Please. I – I cannot stay here and just... watch. Please. I can – I can help people get away – since I am more or less invincible, even if I were to get injured. My strength alone – not as strong as Thor, I admit, but still much greater than your puny strength. I mean," the ex-God floundered as he realized what he'd said. "Not you you. I meant – mortal strength. Please, Bruce."

Turning to eye the tall, thin Asgardian, Bruce sighed, his breath puffing out a cloud of warmth into the dark night now lit with the occasional lightning strike and the glare of lights and sirens and aircraft zipping about in the lower atmosphere. SHIELD was also on the move, it seemed.

"Fine," he said. "But you stay in the helicopter as long as you can. You only get out if you're trying to help someone. Promise me this, Loki."

Loki nodded, pale face set with determination.

"I promise."  
"Then, what are we waiting for?" Bruce grinned as he climbed in and began to strap himself into the seat, while the pilot started up the vehicle. "Let's get our friends out of the trouble they've gotten themselves into. Nothing like the Hulk and the ex-God of Mischief to get the party started."

Loki smiled back then.

"Yes, I agree. If the coward shows his face, lack of power or no, I wish to share with him a few thoughts I have concerning the impoliteness of interrupting festivities." Loki began to clip himself into the seat, hoping that he was fastening the buckles properly.  
"Now that's what I want to hear," Bruce yelled. "Spreading the Christmas spirit, huh, Loki?"  
"What nonsense are you babbling about, Bruce?" hollered back Loki. "I merely have a vested interest in opening the parcels underneath the tree."

They both laughed together as the helicopter rose and disappeared into the dark night sky.

* * *

**Soooo... what do you think? OK? MEH? Excited?**

**Next chapter: VIOLENCE. Um. Yes. Fighting Doom-bots. Dr. Doom reveals his true intentions...? What? There are ulterior motivations? (gasp) And...**

**LOKI MAKES A CHOICE.**

**OK. Angst OSTs 101 back on track... with... Star Wars stuff (by John Williams). Star Wars has angsty music? Well, there are a few. "Darth Vader's Death" is pretty awesome stuff. "Anakin's Theme" from Ep I is pretty awesome. Actually anything with Anakin's theme song. Not that I enjoyed Ep I or II as much as I liked Ep IV and VI (or III). But Anakin's melody is pretty sad.**

**For pure creepiness, "Palpatine's Teaching" from Ep III is AMAZING! Soooo... bass... and moody and the trumpets 3/4s of the way through is so... anyways. Yeah.**

**For energy and the feeling of overwhelmingness (a word I just made up) is "Final Duel" - the part where Luke goes to the dark side and starts beating on his dad. AMAZING musical and film/story moment.**

**Can't wait for Disney's stuff on Star Wars. Can't get worse than Ep II IMO.**


	35. In Time

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Reponse to un-signed in reviewers**

**TO Reader: Hey! Welcome back! I'm glad you're looking forward to some action-packed drama! I hope this doesn't disappoint!**

**THANKS TO ALL OF MY REVIEWERS! I'M SOOOO GLAD YOU GUYS ARE ENJOYING IT!**

**Trying to survive Chinese New Years... when will the firecrackers and fireworks stop? This morning was so foggy, I couldn't see the apartments across from us (50 meters away). So depressing. Because it isn't just fog. My lungs are black. I am sure of it.**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 35  
In Time

"Our father yells  
Throwing gifts in the wood stove, wood stove  
My sister runs away  
Taking her books to the schoolyard, schoolyard  
In time the snow will rise  
In time the Lord will rise"

("That Was The Worst Christmas Ever! - sung by Sufjan Stevens)

The first wave of the metallic creatures hit Long Island around half past one. At first, the attacks seemed to be hoaxes – but SHIELD was already mobilizing when the first blurry picture finally found its way onto Google. Within minutes, the Avengers had been called and were flying on their way out to meet the first wave.

Thor and Tony arrived first and, against all expectations, did as they were told, hung back and sent back initial assessments to the other Avengers who were on their way in a quinjet. The first wave of bots, moving past the north side of Long Island were not settling down to continue destroying the homes they shot at on their way, but seemed to be focused on heading inwards to the centre of New York.

Although it was early in the morning, it was still potentially dangerous as last minute shoppers left for their homes, as the last minute tourist stragglers (or people visiting family) drove in finally making headway with the break in the cloud cover. New York, like all major metropolitan cities, didn't ever really go to sleep – and Tony knew that it wasn't only the law-abiding citizens snuggling in their beds who needed to be protected. There were the others as well. The marginalized. And, God bless 'em, the criminal.

_Human is as human does_, Tony sighed._ Hopefully these Doom-bot things won't do too much damage before we wipe them out. _

"Where are you guys?"  
"Here. You notice they are sweeping in lower than I expected."

Clint's voice. Tony peered through the gloom and realized that the familiar spaced lights of SHIELD's quinjet could be seen through foliage. The quinjet was landing in Liberty Park, Steve, Natasha and Clint climbing out quickly and gearing up for the last time as the hoard descended.

-0-0-0-

They were unlike any Doom-bot they had seen before. _Strange_, Steve thought, as he wacked three which began to attack him with long, retracting pincer arms. _Normally, they're... taller and bigger. And easier to hit. _

Instead of the usual humanoid figure made of metal or synth-flesh, these Doom-bots seemed to be more driven by AI than then usual heavy presence of the Doctor Doom himself. Usually, Doom-bots stood rather tall, were easily deactivated by lightning, decapitation, dismemberment or ripping out the mechanical innards. One time the software had been weak and JARVIS had hacked them all into a standstill. That had been an amazing day. Not today, Steve sighed as he finally managed to wrestle the little tear-dropped Doom-bot to the ground and pried off the front lid (which looked disturbingly like an iris) before finding wiring and yanking the wires out.

These Doom-bots were no bigger than two and a half feet, tear-dropped, smooth with silver metal. Which meant it was hard to get your hands on – and thanks to a small rocket propelled system at the smaller end, rather fast. The larger end was covered with an iris which seemed to be the navigation system combined with basic sensory capabilities. Anything that moved suffered its wrath. Wrath in the form of pincer-like arms which slid out of two slots along the sides and a tiny cannonade which shot out laser blasts from its "underbelly".

"These don't look like Doom-bots," Steve yelled over to Natasha, who had already snagged one by its arms and was busy hacking into it's front iris.  
"No kidding!"  
"No, they're Doom," Tony's voice came out of the headset. "I just dismantled one and looked inside. The fucker put his autograph on the inside shell. Bastard."  
"But – they aren't humanoid!" Clint protested, finally happy to discover that his arrow bombs could actually penetrate the shielding on the teardrop suckers.  
"I know."  
"And what are you doing sitting around like that?" added Clint. "Stop playing nerd and actually help us over here!"  
"Thor and I have our hands full over here. They're trying to eat into the Statue of Liberty. Pardon me for caring about protecting our woefully unfashionable national treasures," Tony snapped back.  
"Blame the French," Natasha replied with a grin as she managed to wrestle another down.  
"How's Thor?"

There was some kind of roar over their head sets and a whole lot of static as huge clouds began to form over Liberty Island. Lightning flashed down and ran down the sides of the Statue. Then it went dark.

"What happened?" Steve yelled. "Did it work?"  
"Uhhh... sort of," Tony said uncertainly. "I'm up to four hundred percent capacity again. Which is cool. And the buggers are stunned. But, um. Not dead. Excuse me. I have a few Doom-bees to destroy."  
"Doom-bees. That's what you came up with? Lame," Clint snorted.

Then, they were all rather busy. Clint realized that he'd need more ammunition at some point, so he put in a short call for backup. SHIELD responded with a dutiful 'we'll get on that right away' – but he didn't hold out for much hope that they would get there soon enough. Watching Natasha, Clint darted around and forced them to the ground, either ripping an arm off and digging around inside (_thank God for rubber and leather gloves!_) - or forcing the large iris open.

Natasha, more used to hand to hand combat, was in her element. Both she and Steve had their hands full, however, because just stunning the creatures was not enough. One had to deactivate them as well. The Black Widow had a bad feeling that the Avengers would be at this all night long. _Which sucks_, she frowned, _I may not like Christmas, but this is sure as hell not the way I'd like to spend it. I hope we figure out a way to short-circuit these things easier._

Steve had a rhythm going. Whack with his shield. Stun. Tear off arm. Disable. Repeat. It was getting old.

Thor's hammer, Mjolnir, was more than up for the job. Whacking the stunned metal creatures definitely flattened them in a satisfying manner – but Son of Stark had pointed out that Mjolnir-shaped impressions on the important statue would not be so appreciated – nor would it improve on its appearance. Still, once he got to the ground, Thor enthusiastically took on a horde, creating his own version of what Son of Stark called 'Whack-a-mole'. Incredibly satisfying. _This is fun_, he grinned. Then his smile faltered. _Too bad Loki could not join me. He would enjoy this. And, it would help him relieve his burdens._

Tony was already sending in a call to SHIELD. His initial assessment put the Doom-bee army at around five hundred. They could handle that – but he had a feeling that Doctor Doom must have something more up his sleeve. He gave Fury a call.

"Stark." It was Fury. None too happy. _Of course._ "I hope you have good news for me."  
"Good and bad. The usual," Tony replied, tearing apart a Doom-bee with his hands while stepping on another in a satisfactory fashion. "Um. Which one do you want first? It's the whole dilemma of shooting the messenger –"  
"Shut the hell up, Stark – or else Doctor Doom won't be the only guy I'm gonna shoot down tonight."  
"OK. Um. First, bad news – I think more are coming. Uh, don't ask me why – but there's something odd about these robots. I mean, c'mon. Bees? So lame. And uh yeah, they're slippery bastards, but essentially without any real tricks up their sleeves. More like fodder, if you get what I mean. Which means it means quantity over quality."  
"Fair enough."  
"So keep an eye out. There might be another wave."  
"Is there any more bad news – or can we cut to the good stuff?" asked Fury, beckoning a hand toward a set of programmers.

Hill nodded and was already moving to stand over them, initiating a broader search for Doom-bees.

"OK. So. No more bad news. I think. Never know. Sorry. Wait a sec." There was a scuffle. An explosion. Watching from the scenes, they watched as a huge hole appeared on Liberty Island taking out a portion of the lawn. Fury winced. The Senate wouldn't be happy. But the Statue was OK. He shrugged. _Eh. Meh. Win some, lose some. _"You see that? Sorry – uh. Stark Industries, by the way, is not liable for any damage caused by –"  
"STARK!"  
"Oh. Right. OK. So. The only other bad thing I can think of is that he's keeping us busy for a reason. Maybe that's why there's a ton of Doom-bees and they're just enough to keep us busy. Maybe. I dunno. OK. Right. Good news. Um. Well. They can be disarmed by about anyone who is really spry and has good calisthenics or is athletic, a daredevil, no sense of personal safety – or – right, right, OK. You just tear an arm off and dig around inside and tear out a few wires and you're all set to go and take down the next one. Pretty easy, huh? Too easy is what I think."  
"Hm. So, with the police department and SHIELD could scramble soldiers and SWAT teams appropriately."  
"If they have shields against lasers. Forgot to mention those, but yes. OK. That was... disturbingly close. Right. But good news is that there's no apparent connection to the Doctor himself. Which is weird, right? He's always up for a chat. Kinda a bit of a talker really. Once you get him going, he'd talk the hind leg off a mule."  
"Sounds like someone I know," grumbled Fury.  
"Ha ha. Yuck it up, big guy, but, uh, that means it's run on an AI. Which means that if JARVIS's scans are right – and I'd like to think they are, that means they're all running on a mainframe somewhere. Probably," Tony veered to the left and then the right, six Doom-bees on his tail. He swooped low to the ground, bringing them toward Thor, allowing the God of Thunder to zap them, stun them and then smash them flat. "Where was I. Oh. Right. Mainframe. Probably somewhere in East Europe or something. JARVIS is still looking into that. Maybe we'll get lucky and Doom was lazy and put the factory with the mainframe."  
"We'll run our scans as well. Thanks. Stay alive," Fury signed off.  
"Yeah..." Tony blinked, looking around. Liberty Island seemed clear. Manhattan Bridge, not so much. "Let's go, Point Break. We've got some civs on the bridge over there who need saving."

They blasted off.

-0-0-0-

In battle, time is inconstant. What seems like minutes may in fact be hours and what feels like hours may last only a few seconds as a Doom-bee tears past your helmet just too close for comfort. They had been battling for half an hour or so already, but thanks to Thor's electrical emissions and JARVIS, Tony's power wasn't running out as quickly as he had feared. A blessing and a curse. His suit wasn't tiring – but he was.

Ten minutes later, just as Tony and Thor were tearing into Doom-bees on the Manhattan Bridge, the second wave arrived, this time coming in from the south side of Long Island. Cursing colourfully, Clint drew back, only find some vans had pulled out – several SHIELD soldiers were climbing out. A bunch holding up several of his quivers. Grabbing them, he nodded and faced forward, Steve and Natasha at his side, and the call came in from Hill, sounding a bit more sharp than usual.

"Unfriendlies coming up south Long Island and headed your direction!"  
"Focusing on us. Again," sighed Steve. "Well, at least they aren't focusing too much on the civilians. But we're going to need help from Thor and Tony if they only come here. I'm getting Bruce to come in."  
"Copy that," Hill replied. "We already have him on his way. Will join Thor and Tony. ETA in ten."  
"We've cleared the park, sir," said a corporal, saluting at Hawkeye before withdrawing his men to man the shoreward side of the park with various assault weapons.  
"Thanks," Hawkeye nodded back. "We'll cover it from here."  
"How's it going over there, Tony?" asked Natasha.  
"This is a larger force," Hill's voice cut in. "Over five hundred and counting. And definitely headed to the park."  
"Shit," said Clint.  
"OK, give us a sec and we'll be over there – we've got people here who need to be moved out – the bridge isn't – oh crap – it isn't really the most stable here. We've got the city coming in for quick fix repairs but – uh – sorry –"

Over the water, out of the corner of his eye, as he batted down six Doom-bees with one of his splitting arrows (which destroyed six opponents at one time, which Natasha thought was sexy, and he had to agree), Clint wondered if a second was going to be easy to survive. Several birds with assault rifles were zooming around the sky. Even a bunch of quinjets had been scrambled – but the Doom-bees (_dammit, Stark's name had stuck. Again_.) were fast.

The helicarrier had to be around somewhere, but had not made an appearance. Clint understood. It was kinda big and rather indefensible. Plus, the Hulk might want to revisit his old playground.

"Bruce's here," Tony's voice cut in. "Thor's bringing him over. OK. Gotta go. I've got some personnel issues here..."

-0-0-0-

Manhattan Bridge was a mess. There were police officers at one end, Bruce's heli at the other end. Twitching Doom-bee littered the area. A few were still whizzing about, which Tony knew he'd take care of soon enough – but even more important was getting Bruce over the water to Liberty Park. Thor offered, dragged the poor man out the helicopter, whirled his hammer and disappeared with only a short glance and a short word ('Stay!") to his brother who seemed to have tagged along in the bird.

The next ten minutes was spent on finishing up the last stragglers of Doom-bees which were wasting the police. Once he was done, Tony made his way down the long stretch of damaged road and bridge to the helicopter now sitting silent and still on the potted tarmac. Striding over to the copter and peering in at a very disgruntled looking Loki, Tony sighed and resisted banging his head on the steel carriage. _Great. An indefensible God of Mischief. On the battlefield. Obviously pining for a fight he could never take part in. Because of some bloody, stupid, indiscriminate spell. Damn Odin and those elves_, Tony sighed.

"OK. Loki. This sucks, but you really have to listen to your brother and stay here."  
"He's not –"  
"Shut up. He is. OK. Right. Now. Stay in the copter. If you really want to get out and stretch your legs, you can help the civilians get off the bridge. There's going to be some bridge repair crew coming in. And police officers. I'll tag you as a friendly. Um. Take this, uh, clippy thing." Here, Tony jerked out from a plastic box always stashed underneath the back seat a SHIELD staff plastic card, which was clipped to a rope necklace, lanyard, cord thing, whatever it was. Reaching up, he beckoned – Loki bent forward and Tony slung it around him and ran a finger laser over the ID bar and nodded. "JARVIS has set you up. You are now an official Avenger. Sort of. For the night. One time only thing. So don't suck. Uh. Right. So. There you go. You can go home in this copter. Or you can sit here and wait. Or you can help civilians and repair crews. Your choice."

With that, he left. Loki turned the plastic card around and saw his picture flicker to life on the thick flat card. His dark eyebrows knit together as he contemplated it with a frown.

_My choice._

-0-0-0-

As he flew off, Tony shook his head. _This is some night_, he thought to himself. _We've got freaky Doom-bots that aren't bots but bees. We've got tons of them. We've got weird tactics. We've got an AI. We've got NO Doctor Doom anywhere. We've got Loki on the field. As an Avenger. For the night. Ugh. My Christmas presents to myself had better be worth it._

"JARVIS," he asked as he neared Liberty Park. "Uh. What's the status on the factory mainframe thing?"  
"As yet, no hit, sir," JARVIS replied smoothly. As though his Christmas plans weren't ruined by Doom and his swarm of Doom-bees. "But SHIELD and several other global organizations have also joined the search."  
"Huh. I don't know if that's supposed to make me feel better, but OK," Tony eyed his friends as he landed. "And, uh, JARVIS, anything else I should know? Anything strange about the swarm or anything?"  
"Well, the swarm seems to have come over here for the most part." JARVIS said. "I will need a few more minutes to analyze their movements – but this flying formation seems to have a centre – but what is at the centre is beyond my sensors at this moment."  
"Lovely. You hear that guys?" Tony turned to the others, who were now beginning to pick off the scouts as they arrived, clicking and whizzing. "Queen Bee or something incoming."  
"Loud and clear," Clint snapped back, arms and feet now put to use as he began to move from long-range destruction to close-range combat.  
"And the rest of New York has not been invaded. Stark Towers has had no targets. The hacking has stopped. Our tracers are working on the origin point. There were a couple small breaches on the part of SHIELD," Here, JARVIS sounded a bit more smug than usual. "But so far, it does not seem to have infiltrated anything concerning the Avengers per se. The cloud is now parting –"  
"Wait. The hacking stopped?" Tony frowned. "When did it stop?"  
"Around twenty minutes ago, sir. Just after the first wave arrived."  
"And when did SHIELD's servers get hacked?"

Pause.

"Around the same time, sir. With the overload of information coming in concerning the Doom-bees, sir, there was a large amount of traffic which would account for the –"  
"Oh crap. Make your analysis on the hacking the highest priority."  
"Right, sir."  
"Let me know as soon as you find out."  
"Certainly, sir."

The next fifteen minutes were spent rather breathlessly on dealing with the second wave of Doom-bees. More often than not, Tony found himself back to back with Thor or Natasha fending off two Doom-bees to one hand. Exciting stuff.

Somewhere, far in the distance, there was the familiar roar of the Hulk as he tore through tree groves and bracken and bushes to squash any of the mites which were too close to the ground. Swatting them away like the puny baseballs they seemed compared to his large hands, the Hulk seemed to be more happy than annoyed. _No doubt, he's getting some stress relief time_, grinned Tony. _Christmas holiday stress. Gotta love it. Well. At least it isn't Loki. _

At the thought of Loki, Tony hoped that Loki wasn't getting into too much trouble. Or mischief.

_If we could be so lucky._

They were not.

-0-0-0-

For a few seconds, Loki sat there, turning the card over and over in his hands, considering what lay before him. He could stay there or go home. Or he could get out and help the puny race that he was supposed to have crushed beneath his feet.

_... do not know the truth of ruling, brother... the throne would suit you ill..._

Grimacing, biting his lip and hitting his knee with his fist, Loki got up and jumped out of the flying contraption and looked around with a sharp gusty exhalation more like a sigh. It was as the Son of Stark said. The stupid creatures were running around like panicked mice and less coherent and courageous than the best of men. And it was his responsibility to care for them. Apparently.

They were at the far end of the bridge, the north-ward side he supposed. On the far end, he could see smoking cars and twisted metal – what had been the front brigade of the police people. Foolish creatures. Toward them streamed those who could walk or limp or run. But there were others who lay still on the tarmac. He would have to check all for signs of life and aid those unconscious back. Metaphorically rolling up his sleeves, Loki set to work.

While the Avengers fought, Loki moved from silent vehicle to silent vehicle, checking for wounded or any kind of unconscious survivor. He discovered two unconscious women and dragged them to the helicopter. Further down, two young people had died. Further down, an old man. Also dead. Beyond that, a beefy man coming to consciousness with a large gash on his forehead, bleeding like a stuck boar. He got the man down and discovered that he was willing to walk toward the police officers – and aid two young crying children as well. Loki let him go, eyeing the dark skies nervously.

If the metallic bee-like creatures, _Doom-bees, Stark had called them_, returned, Loki would be of no use.

It did not bear thinking on. Moving from vehicle to vehicle, Loki checked for any survivors. Some were dead. Some unconscious and came to and scurried away. Some had to be laid in the helicopter. Or around it. They were running out of room. The pilot was already talking over some speaking device and ordering medical aid. Loki didn't think there would be any coming any time soon. He was now working on both sides of the road.

Half of the way, he heard a small wail rise from a vehicle. He could hear a child's cry begin to increase – running toward a larger vehicle, Loki jerked the door open. _What kind of family travels at this time of the night?_ He glared inside – and then bit back a cry as something burned his hand. Pulling away, Loki turned around to find himself faced with a Doom-bee.

This Doom-bee was easily twice the size of the usual Doom-bees – and, on top of that, stripped with green and yellow. The eye, instead of the usual blue, was gold and black. There were two small gun-like things on its underbelly and the arms were longer and bigger. Loki stepped back from the door as the guns tracked him.

_Uh... oh..._

-0-0-0-

"Guys. We have a problem," Tony said over the comm-sets.  
"Tell me something I don't know, Stark," bit back Steve, voice gasping as he whacked two more Doom-bees and tried to get at least one disabled before the other one woke up.  
"Uh. You don't know this. It's, um. Not good."  
"Spit it out already, fly boy," Natasha nearly missed Tony's head as she shot at two Doom-bees which were getting too close for comfort.  
"Nearly killed me there. OK. It's Loki."  
"Oh crap. What's he doing now?"  
"Helping civilians get off the bridge, according to JARVIS, actually," Fury's voice cut in. "He seems to be in the pink of health, more or less."  
"Check again."

Pause.

"Oh shit."  
"Right. Yeah."  
"Guys!" Natasha whirled around to bring yet another Doom-bee down.  
"Short version. SHIELD was hacked." Tony flew upward and released a few of his micro-bombs and then spiralled sideways as the explosion forced him downwards. "SHIELD's access to the LS."  
"LS?" Thor asked.  
"Loki Satellite."  
"Oh dammit," Clint did not sound happy. "He's a target?"  
"Uh. If JARVIS's readings are correct. The centre of the mass – the, uh, Queen Bee, as it were – just peeled away from the group and is heading over to the bridge."

Pause. More fighting.

"He's THE target, guys," Tony sighed. "It wasn't about us, after all."  
"I never thought I'd hear you say that. Christmas miracles do happen." Natasha scoffed. "OK. So Loki's the target. Why?"  
"Well, if I knew why, I'd be happier," Tony snapped back. "But it can't be good. Um. Worst case scenario – it's a bid for Loki's loyalty. Imagine – Loki and Doctor Doom teaming up."  
"I've already imagined that," Fury said bluntly. "From Day One."  
"Loki would not join with a creature such as Doom!" Thor's protest threatened to bring down the comm units. "He would not endanger us in such a way – and he is more independent –"  
"Thor's right," Natasha shook her head. "It's a possibility, but doesn't call for us to target Loki. What's the better possibility?"  
"Uh... Doctor Doom is taking out the competition? Taking out our potential ally? Your pick."  
"Either way, you're saying Loki's dead," Clint frowned. "I don't like those odds at all."  
"Well, thanks to some elves and Odin, Loki's got no way to protect himself. Someone needs to get over there. Thor – wait – you can't just leave. Uh. Natasha! Behind you! Thor, - to the Hulk's right!"

There was an ensuing scuffle. As Thor peeled too Doom-bees off the Hulk's back and crushed them while Natasha dealt with yet another Doom-bee who had tried to blow her head off via laser. For a second, there was a breather.

"None of us can go – for now," Steve sighed. "Maybe in ten minutes..."  
"We have the helicopter pilot on scene," Fury's voice broke in. "The unknown unfriendly has made contact with Loki. It does not appear to be friendly with Loki so far – but neither is it trying to actively kill him. We think they're talking. We'll let you guys know. I have sent SHIELD and SWAT over."  
"OK. Tell the pilot to tell Loki we're going to send someone over. Tony or Thor or something."  
"Will do."

With renewed vigour, Thor whirled Mjolnir, raised his hammer and called lightning down. If Doctor Doom even thought about attempting harm to Loki, the creature would pay with his life – a thousand times over.

_This I vow. No one will harm a hair of my brother's head and live to see daylight. _

-0-0-0-

"Greetings, Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies and Chaos," said a metallic voice.

Loki glanced inside the vehicle and noticed that woman at the front was stirring. The child was still crying. _By the Norns, why can it not be silent?_ Twitching back to look at his opponent, Loki considered the metallic creature. He had seen Tony dismember it. There was only one._ If I work quickly, perhaps I can stay one step ahead of the spell._ Loki, breathing in and out through his nose, calmed his mind and tried to keep it clear of any thoughts of violence. Until the last minute.

"We meet at last. It is my pleasure."  
"It is not mine, metal thing," Loki replied disdainfully.  
"The name is Doctor Doom."  
"You look... rather small for such a... name..." Baleful.  
"And you look beaten for a God of Asgard," was the metallic response. Then some kind of synthetic laughter bleated out from its speakers. "One of the first things we will do is institute a better diet more suited to your kind."  
"We?" Loki raised an eyebrow. "I am afraid there is no 'we' in this situation. At all."  
"I am sure that we can come to... terms... and eventually see eye to eye on matters pertaining to this world," was the calm reply.  
"I fear not," Loki replied. "Sadly." Not so sadly. "It would presume on myself having an opinion on matters pertaining to this world. Currently, I have none. Definitely none that could also include your esteemed self. Now, there are some others – on that far stretch of land who may be more interested in speaking with you. I am currently... occupied, so if you will excuse me –"  
"Yes, I noticed. Helping the very scum you had vowed to conquer." Another sharp laugh. Loki, who had begun to turn, froze and turned to glare at the Doom-bee. "What if something happened to these pathetic creatures – what would your friends think, I wonder? Trust is such a – fragile – thing."

At the word 'fragile', several things happened all at once. For a moment, it was as if time had slowed down for the ex-God of Mischief. There was an explosion – a sharp force – a wind gale – something which tossed the vehicle at his side up and over the median. The body was now tilting dangerously off the edge – ready at any moment to slip off.

"Now. You have a choice, Loki of Asgard. You can come with me – and have a chance to finish what you started. Or you can stay here. Be pathetic – and remaining the nothing you have become," the Doom-bee cackled. "What does Loki of Asgard say?"

Another blast. _An air blast of some kind_, Loki thought disjointedly. _At this rate_ – but it was already too late. The woman was awake now and scrambling to the back, trying to balance the car forward, scrambling for her child. Wailing increased and screams of 'my baby! My baby!'. A headache was forming. There was nothing but his breath. Whiteness. Darkness. Flaring. Blaring. The sounds of rockets. Gunshots.

Another blast.

The car was tipping forward.

This was now. This was now or never. The car was tipping forward. Loki could dart forward and try to pull it back. He could fail. He could be pulled over. He could just let it happen. It wouldn't be his fault. The car was tipping forward. He would have to live with the sound of the child crying. For the rest of his very long life. Not that he hadn't heard children cry before. But that was before. Before Robert Loki Anthony Hollins. Before he understood. The car was tipping – slipping forward – the wheels left the rail.

Loki made a choice.

The car tipped forward, slipped forward and Loki –

Fell.

* * *

**OK. So. Um. Cliffie...**

**DON'T KILLLLLL MEEEE!**

***ahem***** Yes.**

**Next chapter... What side does Loki fall on? Toward the mom and the minivan? Toward Doctor Doom? And a few other epic things.**

**ANGST MUSIC 101. Lord of the Rings. "For Frodo", "Passing of the Elves", "The Healing House", et cetera. There's nothing like epic music to change into angst ridden melodies. I'm not talking about the sweetness of the Rivendell theme or the Aragorn/Arwen theme song - but there are sadder ones. Like "The Eagles" and the part where Frodo and Sam go up the side of Mount Doom. LOTR:FOR was the first movie I ever saw in theatres - at the age of 18. It was the best night of my life. So, for me, Lord of the Rings will always be special.**


	36. Nothing Right

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Hi all. Good news... This fic will be done. **

**Bad news. Not any time soon.**

**I'M SO SORRY! SO SO SORRY! But Lent came upon me quicker than I had thought possible - I should've double-checked, but now it's here and I had made a self-promise to give up fanficcing for Lent. So. Um. On my B-Day, March 30, I will update the story. Or maybe the day after... but anyways. That being said. **

**Sorry. I'm leaving it on a cliffie. Again. . **

**But if you have read my author's notes or chatted with me on messaging, you know that this story ends well sort of and that Loki will survive. Etc. Etc. **

**So, I am so glad to have met you guys. The Avenger's fandom is awesome. Thanks so much to those readers who have put up with me as I blunder through this new fandom (for me) and I hope that my next fanfic, when I do get around to writing it, will be even better than this one. And less of a WANGST fic and more of a BAMF fic. **

**I'll see you all on my b-day, March 30. I promise. This torch will not die. Nor will the flames of my Loki feels die out. **

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 36  
Nothing Right

"Silent night  
Holy night  
Silent night  
Nothing feels right"

("That Was The Worst Christmas Ever! - sung by Sufjan Stevens)

_You are not the only one surprised... If you had asked me a year ago this time if I could imagine myself to be here, in your presence, as a – well, as neutral acquaintance –_

_A friend, one day._

_Well, I guess it just tells you that in the end, there's always hope for us. We can change – but it depends on us, in the end. What do we choose to be?_

_Choice. That is not a luxury I have enjoyed in a long... long, long, long time._

_...if you believe the Norns, there is only doom to face and the matter of having the courage to pass through it..._

_But I can't believe that... Not fully anyways. You have a choice – for yourself. About yourself. Maybe you can't change everything. Maybe things get out of control. It's how you respond that matters. How you respond is what defines you – it shows you for who you really are._

-0-0-0-

All large bridges in Midgard appeared to have two roads – one going and one coming – and on the really large bridges, there were the additional small roads on the side for those who journeyed by foot and those who rode smaller vehicles. Such as the ones with two wheels. This secondary small road was now bridged by the teetering vehicle – the mother upsetting the balance dangerously as she scrambled back in an attempt to get to her child. _Children_, Loki noticed dazedly as a second head popped up from the back seat and started to look around in shock. _There are two of them. And the woman. By the Norns, my luck worsens by the minute. _

Then, as if taunting the ex-God of Mischief, the Doom-bee smirked and said, "Now. You have a choice, Loki of Asgard. You can come with me – and have a chance to finish what you started. Or you can stay here. Be pathetic – and remaining the nothing you have become," the Doom-bee cackled. "What does Loki of Asgard say?"

And with the last blast, (really, it was all happening so fast, actions layering on actions), the minivan tipped over. Before Loki could explain. Before he could say something scathing like "You do not really understand what is going on, do you?" Before he could say something that would prolong the stalemate.

Suddenly there was nothing but a choice and before he could really compute, he had lunged forward and, hand grasping the door's handle, allowed himself to be pulled forward and down, while he yanked the thin metal door right off its hinges. From above, he could hear shouting – the humans no doubt upset about the destruction of the vehicle, or the family, or the bridge. Not him, he was certain. Or perhaps the metallic creature has turned on the law men.

Then all thoughts suddenly focused on rapid movement. Pulling the woman who had grabbed her older son and was trying to pull her babe out – the fabric straps snapped like twine as Loki yanked them apart and pulled back out the door with the babe in his arms, pulled the mother, pulled the son, pulled them all upward, letting the car hit the water before them.

The water hit them with a painful smack, with an overwhelming cold which stabbed through his clothes and body like so many knives. He wondered what the woman must feel and the child and the babe which lay in his arms – the water closed over his head for a moment – and he clawed his way to the surface. The older child was thrashing.

Unable to swim. _Of course he can't swim_, Loki thought disjointedly as he started to look for land, attempting to keep the baby above the freezing waves. _That would be too simple, would it not? _

Beside him, the mother was crying, attempting to battle panic and her tears, and not quite succeeding. He opened his mouth to tell her to _shut her mouth, by all that is sacred_, but a large wave of cold water hit him in the face and above him, he was aware of the circling, cackling metallic creature – which suddenly was smacked in the side by a heavy stream of laser coming from a familiar suit of red and gold.

_Man of Iron. Stark. He came._ Loki sighed with relief. _Help will come._ He eyed the woman who was finding it difficult to breath and the child was becoming too still for his liking. _But not soon enough._ His own body was finding it hard to move now and bit by bit, his fingers were turning an unfortunate colour of blue. Loki stiffened and gritted his teeth as his fingernails began to turn black and the woman behind him gasped and her voice rose in a sharp wail as Loki turned and met her eyes.

"You're – you're –"  
"Sile –"  
"Are – are – are you a-a-a-an alien? Are you going to –" The mother paused. "Please, please help us – I don't know what's going on – but we never – we never –"  
"Silence, woman. Can you bear your children for a few minutes more?" Loki shifted over to her, hoping that his foreboding, monster-like features would silence the mortal into submission. "I can create a bridge to the land, upon which we may escape."  
"S-s-sure. Please. Please. Quickly."

Shoving the too quiet bundle into her arms, Loki spread out his hands and prayed that the Norns had found some speck of mercy in their hearts that they would not torture him with the death of innocents today. Hands spread out over the water, Loki called on his heritage, called on the powers of his race, called on the heart of the Jotun which lay within him. He prayed that Odin's spell did not cover this – and when it responded – instinctively, naturally, Loki's tension eased out as the ice spread forward – toward the shore – and down, creating a thick shelf. It couldn't reach the shore quite yet, but it was enough for now. Enough to place the child, then the boy and finally the woman. Clambering onto the shelf, afterwards, he lay there for a moment, exhausted. Exhausted and frightened. _How easy it came to me_, he thought bitterly. _And how natural it is, that even magic cannot suppress it. _

He raised a hand and looked at it. Foreign. As if it was not his own hand. Loki resisted a sudden irrational urge to cut it off.

Thor's young voice, as a child, filtered back to him. A promise. An Asgardian constant.

_...I will kill every last one of them, just like you Father..._

Sitting on the shelf of ice he had so quickly created, underneath a battle in the sky and a renewed battle on the bridge, Loki contemplated the lines which swirled up – up into the cuffs of his jacket now heavy with water. What they were, what they looked like, he had no real knowledge. _He never wanted to know. I never want to know. Never want to become... this..._

Bruce's voice also returned.

_Like, you know, the, um, the Other Guy. That whole situation is just... it's crap, right. Something that I can't change – something I regret – something I'll regret until the day I die or whatever. But, what's important is what the me of the now, the present – what that me decides to do with my life. Am I going to take out my rage and self-hatred out on the people I love? Am I going to live up to the expectations of the bastards who are more than ready to stick me in a cage and drop me into the ocean somewhere – or worse, experiment on me? Or am I going to try to make peace with the world and myself and choose to help others around me and stop focusing on self-pity and hatred and fear?_

Would that – could that be true of Loki as well?

_Ha ha ha ha ha hahahaha..._ A cackle rose in his mind, not unlike the sound of the metallic creature. _You think you can be accepted so easily? _

_No. Yes. I don't know_.

Just realizing that they could see – the law men, the police, whoever, the heroes, the woman, the children – they could see now. They should never see. Heimdall had seen. Odin had seen. But how could they be allowed to see what Loki never wanted to see. What he never wanted to face again. And Thor would see.

_You think that he will be able to accept?  
Yes. This Thor would. This foolish, this kind yet so foolish Thor would. He always did. He always had before. He always would. Would he not?_

_That your brother will look on you and not flinch? That he will take you into his arms as he had before? That there will nothing between you – not even the curse that separates the Aesir and the Jotunn?_

_Yes. No. I don't know._

_That he will not wither and burn as he cradles you?_

_Thor..._

Loki opened his eyes and stared emptily across the black waters now sparkling with red from flaring lights and blue from others and white from lights which streamed down from the sky vehicles and other sorts of lights. He could not sit there. He would be a target now – unless his new found acquaintances would step in.

_Will they step in? _

Bruce would. Thor would.

_Maybe. Maybe not._

At any rate, he had to get to the woman to land. The woman and her children. If they were saved, Loki knew that some kind of leniency could be expected. He would not be executed. And there was the spell to thank for that. Perhaps he would be released with a reprimand.

_Not that you did anything wrong_, Loki reminded himself, as he made his way to the farther end of the block and placed his hands down to begin forming new ice toward the shore. _Other than show your true colours. _

_And why should they show leniency_, his dark side whispered, _when Loki of Asgard showed no such mercy toward his own kind and continues to show no such mercy to himself?_

Despair. He worked through it and around it, his ice moving slowly across the waters and then, finding land, proceeding to thicken until he could finally turn and nod at the woman. For a moment, Loki wondered if he had lost his voice. Opening his mouth and working it for a few seconds, he found it.

"We can cross to safety. Now."

The woman nodded. Loki approached slowly. As if she were a wounded deer and, eyes never leaving her face, he picked up the older child, allowing her to take the babe into her arms. Carefully, slowly, slipping and sliding more often then not, the two made their way across, not collapsing until they finally found firm footing on land. Above them, more vehicles were arriving and judging by the sudden shift in the atmosphere and an increase of lightning, Thor was arriving. Or had arrived. Loki, hunting around the shore, tried to find something. Anything in which to wrap the children.

_Paper. Paper would help a little. But not enough._ The boy in particular, and the mother herself were too still for his liking. _Breathing, yes_. And he found himself, looking back, to make sure the mother had not fallen asleep. _She needs to stay awake._

"Rub their chests and arms," he said. "Unbundle the wet clothes. Here, I will wring them out and we'll wrap them up in paper and, a moment –" Loki scurried up the hill at the sight of something grey and flapping. He returned with a scrap of stiff brown canvas. "This, we will wrap around the child. The babe, you must clasp to your chest, where it is warmest. Do you understand?"

"Yes – yes – OK. Right," the mother scurried to obey his orders.

Quiet for a moment. More crashing and shouting and shooting and other explosive noises happening. Debris rained down. A snapping sound. Loki ignored it, focusing instead on fumbling hands and the too pale skin of the young boy child.

"What is your name, mortal?" Loki asked, recognizing the exhaustion and shock creeping into the woman's thin frame for what it was – a dangerous sign of the winter sleep.  
"Vicky. Victoria. Victoria Hanson." Pause. "You?"  
"I?" Loki deftly stripped the boy of his shirt and pants, wrung them out then replaced them carefully. "Loki."  
"Loki... You have a last name, Loki?" asked the woman, who was also wringing out her babe's swaddling cloth as well as her blue-white hands could. Loki leaned over, took them wordlessly and wrung them out even more.  
"It is just Loki," he replied brusquely. Winced. "Just Loki," he said softly.  
"Well, 'just Loki'," she said. "My family and I are going to owe you a huge thanks when this is over."  
"If you survive," Loki pointed out gruffly, uncertain of what to do with her apparent gratitude.

_Is she blind? Or perhaps she is so far gone she cannot possibly care from what quarter comes salvation... _Loki eyed the woman as she wrapped the babe up again and then, taking off her coat, attempted to wring out the hard wool. He helped her again.

"Is it a girl? Or a boy?" Loki asked, breaking the ensuing silence awkwardly.  
"A girl. We called her Kay. That's Jeremy." She smiled sadly. "We – we were driving in to New York to see Papa. He moved ahead of us. A new job, you see," Now the words streamed out, her voice shaky as realization began to set in. "But with the weather the way it has been lately, well, we weren't sure – and I was so set on it. For Jeremy, you know. He misses his dad." A pause. "All boys miss their dads, you know?"

Loki thought of Odin. Odin after the Pit, regretful and silent. Odin after his return in chains, stern and hard. Odin on the newly broken Bifrost, quiet and disappointed. He hated himself – had hated himself. He had let go – but he had, at that moment, craved his father's approval. Craved his father's presence. _And now. Now, that has died. Now I am free. But what is freedom when there is no one to share it with you. Freedom is nothing but a void, if you are free alone. But at what cost to you pay for sanity and acceptance? Is it worth it? And yet, and yet, in the end, blood calls to blood. Family call to family. Ties not so easily broken, which are forged in time, if not in blood. One day, if there is forgiveness on all sides, could there be peace?_ Loki wondered. His hands were starting to shake.

"So," the woman's voice broke into his thoughts. "Are you – well, you're blue. So. Um. Blue skin, red eyes, the lines and stuff. Are you, uh, well. Um. Alien?"  
"Alien?" Loki eyed the woman, raising a dark eyebrow, wrapping the young boy up and moving him closer to his mother.  
"From outer space."  
"I come from Asgard," Loki finally said. "Another realm."  
"Above the sky? Beyond earth?"  
"In a manner of speaking, yes."  
"Outer space, then."

Loki decided to let the woman think whatever she pleased. He shrugged. His hands were shaking now, as the stress began to mount within him. As the memories began to rise. The snow piled around his thighs and knees and feet increased the chill. Above him, the metallic creatures multiplied – and were beaten down, raining debris onto the open shore and dark water. The woman and child were safely ensconced underneath the bridge – _but if the bridge were to give way_, Loki shuddered. _Best stay with them_, he sighed to himself.

A metallic creature was heading his way, Loki rose, allowing ice to form along his forearms, creating the ice daggers which so naturally came to his people. How he would use them, he wasn't entirely certain, but fighting with knives had always been his speciality, so Loki was certain he could improvise. And it would have to be in defence as well.

Loki cursed Odin. Cursed the elves. Cursed the immutable spell and its limitations. Raised his hands and risked casting a glance back at the mortals now in his care. The mother – _Victoria_ – was now pulled up against the concrete wall, huddling with her two children, eyes wide with terror as it focused on him –

Words of reassurance rose to his lips but before he could get out a "Do not fear I have no reason to harm you" – the woman screamed uncontrollably, eyes wide, face even paler than before (and that was a feat).

"Loki! LOKILOOKOUT!"

Loki's eyes jerked forward, just in time to follow the arc of the metallic creature now flying uncontrollably past him to end up flattened and partially embedded in the concrete pillar to above the mother. Red eyes wide, Loki shifted, suddenly, uncomfortably aware that something was NOT right.

"LOKIBEHINDYOU! IT'SAMONSTER!"

He turned.

A large green hand swallowing up the night.

Loki turned and froze.

A familiar hulk of muscles – green and foreboding.

He froze.

It was the face of nightmares.

* * *

**Again. Sorry for the shortness. I had to write this in a space of 45 minutes, because I have some things to do tonight - that are mucho important - and on top of that, I shouldn't really be posting this - but I need to, just to let you know that things are going on hiatus for Lent. **

**If you do like my writing and want to see what other stuff I've written, I will be posting original fic. On Fictionpress. Under kakashidiot or Scarecrow's Lady. **

**See you around, lovelies. I will miss you.**  
**KI**


	37. Lord Have Mercy

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Well... I'm back~ I hope that's cool. Did anyone miss me? Maybe? Maybe not... (sigh)**

**BUT LENT IS OVER! YAY! I SURVIVED! Somehow... What have you guys been up to? Let me know!**

**THANKS TO ALL REVIEWERS. YOU GUYS ARE THE AWESOME!**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 37  
Lord Have Mercy

"Kyrie eleison we sing...  
Mortal and immortal voices...  
Endless praises echoing"

("No Eye Had Seen" - sung by Michael W. Smith)

All of his life, compared to Thor, standing underneath his brilliance – a dark shadow blotted out by Thor's command, charisma, power and courage, Loki had fallen short in the eyes of Asgard. Seemed to fall short in the eyes of his father... and himself. Over time, he began to wonder as well, no matter what his mother whispered to him or the praise his tutors had heaped on his achievements. Mother was a woman, standing in the shadow of Odin; his tutors, a group of worn men who used him as a beacon for academic hope and personal gain among the Realms. So Loki had wondered.

As he stood before the Hulk, watching the large, green hand descend, Loki wondered. His mind scrambled madly, internally screaming to _movemovemovemove! By the Norns, don't let them catch you – or it will be pain so much pain oh gods the pain_ – He darted forward and to the side, barely brushing past the muscled fingers. Loki rolled and ran, hoping his brother would notice the Hulk. _His brother. Thor. Not his brother. Never mind that. Thor. Iron Man. Someone. _

The Hulk was darkly chuckling and Loki wracked his memory, trying to remember what Thor and the others had said about the beast. It liked to play sometimes – and Bruce was often more in control than it seemed – but there were those times. _Those times. Those times when Bruce truly lost control. _

_Is he playing with me?_ Loki's breath expelled harshly into the night air, the clouds of breath frosting under the night sky._ Is this Bruce? Is this to pay me back? Nononono, he wouldn't do that. Not Bruce. This must be... _

The Hulk suddenly was looming over him, blotting out the whirling lights and lightly falling snow and faraway pinpricks of starlight, and Loki scrambled through the debris, the huge chunks of concrete now embedded in the frozen ground, under the rain of continuous small pieces of grit as Thor's hammer took out another piece of stone somewhere above him. More than ever, he recognized how slowly he moved, compared to the lumbering gait of the Hulk. The mindless beast was obviously playing with him as a cat played with a mouse. Loki slipped and slithered over the snow and the ice through the garbage, panting heavily, trying to keep calm and not lose –

Without warning, his foot was yanked away and upward, forcing him forward to bash his face painfully into the ground. There was no time to recognize the cut on his forehead, as his back jolted painfully. Now Loki was swinging upward. _Nononono_. The ground was coming up too fast – he twisted just in time – and hit the ground painfully on his back, cracking a few ribs and rattling his teeth uncomfortably.

_Not this again. Bruce – no!_ Somewhere, Loki could hear the woman screaming piercingly. _The idiot would draw attention to herself and then – by the Norns, could nothing go right this evening?_

Loki whirled through the air again, hit several patches of ice, cracking them and the icy ground had gained a few dents (none too sizable) that looked remarkably like his shoulders. At some point, one of his arms got between him and another rough patch of ice at the edge of the water. With a dreadful snap, something gave and Loki cried out sharply.

And then there was a familiar boom – a deep horn – a loud voice – familiar – _Thor – his brother. Thor. Thank the Nine, he had come._ Thor's blonde hair flashed past him and Mjolnir threw the beast several paces back – pulling Loki painfully along the ground with him.

_I need to break free_, Loki thought, his hand moving down to the tight fist clenched around his leg, almost breaking it. He found it hard to breath. _The broken ribs? Perhaps._ That and the panic welling up as his fingers scrabbled along the tough skin of the creature. _Or..._ He laid a hand on the green skin and called on the heritage he hated.

Chill crept down and Loki's fingers dug into the green flesh desperately, calling on his ice. The Hulk was now dodging a blast from the Iron Man and Thor was trying to hit the green beast's shoulder in an attempt to dislodge Loki. Chill spread. The skin was turning blue, grey, black and a tinge of white – with a cry, the Hulk dropped his precious toy and reeled back. Mjolnir caught the Hulk in the face and Loki watched with fascination as the gigantic creature swayed and then fell back, unconscious and the body shrank until there was nothing but Bruce with a frostbitten hand and a very bruised body.

It was Bruce. _It is Bruce. It is Bruce_, Loki had to remind himself, but already his body was attempting to move backwards and away from the man. Only to find himself, stopped by a hand on his shoulder and suddenly Thor was there. Thor, rounding from behind him, to kneel before him.

Loki cried out and tried to twist away, his face crumpling, cringing at the realization that Thor would see. Thor would see. He had seen.

_...I will kill every last one of them, just like you, Father... _

_...know your place, brother..._

- Thor at the main table re-telling his tale about their adventure on Nornheim. Loki's role in their salvation was barely touched on – but a small mention of his craft – and there was laughter. There was always laughter –

_...for your crimes against the crown and throne of Asgard, for endangering the safety of Midgard, consorting and conspiring both for and against Jotunheim..._

_...you are nothing but filth, Prince of Lies, and your mouth is nothing but filth and will be filled with nothing but filth. Freakish monster!..._

- a fist rising, only to descend on his unprotected face and a boot followed hard after, burying itself in his very empty stomach – he would not cry – he would not -

_...you lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors, but they are a part of you and they will never go away..._

- Thanos's hand blotting out the stars as he pulled Loki toward him. There was pain as a dark hand twisted in the greasy curls of his hair. He couldn't respond, however. Loki couldn't move. Not anymore. He was Thanos's puppet. He was nothing –

_...we fought together, we played together..._

_...you lack conviction..._

- lying in the crater, aching from head to foot and knowing that he had failed and there was nowhere to run to – he always failed, but that was the plan, wasn't it? His plan? What was his plan? Thanos's plan? Did it matter now... Did he matter? -

_...It's too late. It's too late to stop it..._

_...No, Loki._

-0-0-0-

Just one look at his brother's expressive face, now bared and open, all artifice and stripped away in a moment of terror and grief and self-hate. Thor's heart skipped a beat as his brother cried out softly, "Nononono. Thor. Let me go."

"Loki... Loki..." Thor said over and over again, his voice unnaturally quiet and soft. His large hands pulled gently on Loki's shoulder, easing his younger brother -

_Always his brother._

"Loki," he said. What he should have said so long ago. "It is alright." He pulled his brother forward, careful to not jostle Loki's now cradled broken arm. Pulled Loki forward and drew him into a hug. _This time_, Thor thought,_ I will not let go._

_I will not let go._

-0-0-0-

"Thor," Loki was saying rather incomprehensibly. "I'm sorry. Sorry –"

"No, brother," Thor smiled, ignoring the chill that crept up his arms as he crushed Loki carefully against his chest. He whispered into his ear. "You did well."

Loki's words ran together, not heeding Thor's words at first, until his brother's repeated mantra began to force its way into his consciousness. As Thor's hug remained solidly around his shoulders, Loki began to thrash a little. Weakly, straining back, attempting to pull away – but Thor was having none of it, merely repeating the words, the lies Loki had been wanting to hear all this life.

"I have got you now," Thor was repeating for the tenth time and Loki sagged forward, bloody forehead resting against Thor's broad shoulder.

He couldn't breathe. Again. The words sunk in painfully and his good hand crawled up to grab Thor's lapel as Loki tried once again to free himself. _This cannot be true... Can it?_

"I am sorry, Loki," Thor was saying. "I doubted you for many years and never truly let others know what amazing strength and courage and wisdom you have. I am sorry for the times I never protected you from the laughter of the court and the teasing and the unkind words. But today, Loki," he went on. "That will all change."

Loki's chest was burning and his eyes stung and he could feel his harsh panting turning into heaving breaths as ugly tears rose to the surface, as he collapsed forward. As he cried in rage and fear... and pain. He tried to stifle it at first, but it kept spilling forth. He tried to remember where he was – in the full sight of the Iron Man, no doubt and the mortal woman, and who he was – a cursed, monstrous Jotun. Loki's tears did not abate. Freed as though a great dam had burst outward, the tears and cries wrenched themselves from his tense body, shoulders shaking, torso heaving, and hands trembling and twisting.

-0-0-0-

Watching the two brothers, Tony said nothing, suddenly feeling very much like an intruder. He was where he shouldn't be. A part of him wanted to run away – but there was Bruce to consider and the woman and her kids. JARVIS was already calling for medics, which was great – which made him more or less useless after double-checking Bruce's pulse and covering him with a raggedy tarp.

And Loki's thrashing, as it turned into tears, was even more off-putting. Inappropriate words rose to his lips – a great desire to break the tension with some joke, but he said nothing, watching Thor finally do what he should have done (no doubt) long ago – hold Loki close until Loki broke.

And Loki broke. And Iron Man, for the first time, understood what Pepper and Jane and Steve and Bruce (_bless his green rage monster heart_) had seen so long ago – what he had glimpsed in that small moment on that one day when he had made that bizarre decision to bring Loki in for Christmas. This wasn't a clinical matter anymore. _This isn't something that I can watch and poke_, Tony hesitated. _This is like Bruce. All over again, dammit. This is Loki who helped those homeless people. This is Loki who helped a baby be born. This is Loki who jumped off a bridge to save some random woman. _

He could never laugh at this Loki. _Not ever again._

_Well_, another part of him smirked. _Not more than what you do with Cap and Robin Hood._

-0-0-0-

Minutes passed by and eventually the worst of the storm passed by. Loki's tears abated slowly until there was quiet hiccoughing and sniffling. Thor's hand ran up and down his brother's back. Frost had crept up Thor's arms, but he did not pull away from his blue-skinned brother. His Jotnar brother. It didn't matter.

This was Loki. Come home.

* * *

**Sorry for the shortness! So sorry. Um... Next week, we'll have battle clean up and opening Christmas presents. I hope that everyone had an awesome Easter! **

**Please review!**

**Angst OST 101 - Halo 4 "Haven" and "Solace". Awesome pieces of music and very cool - both having these gut-wrenching crescendo parts which really help lift you up as you read. Lift your angst up, I mean.**

**-KI**


	38. Stand By You

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**AHA! A more substantial update as promised! Only two more chapters to go! And... then it's over and time for the sequel or... I may take a break from this particular story-verse and do another Loki story with an emphasis on a Jotun!Loki AU. We'll see. **

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/added this story to alerts, etc. I love the reviewers in particular since I feel so encouraged! Take a moment to say something - even if it's to criticize something constructively. **

**SydneyJones - I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thanks a ton for your kind words!**

**Now onwards to opening presents happiness!**

* * *

Christmas Magic

Chapter 38  
Stand By You

"And the friendly beasts around Him stood  
Jesus our brother, strong and good...

Thus every beast by some good spell  
In the stable dark was glad to tell  
Of the gift he gave Emmanuel  
The gift he gave Emmanuel"

("The Friendly Beasts" - sung by Sufjan Stevens)

Two o'clock in the morning. New York lay winking and sparkling under a steadily growing new blanket of snow. It was pitch dark on this side of the world – but the eternally lit city spread a glow into the grey-blue-black night sky. Not even the heavy snowfall could entirely erase its light. And it was cold. Parents who had stayed up late to wrap last-minute presents now sat nervously in front of their TVs waiting for the all clear sign from the NYPD and US Army.

This wasn't new for many of the New Yorkers, since Doctor Doom had a bit of a tradition attacking the main cities of America and Europe on Christmas Eve. It was a tradition they could do without, to say the least.

Under lock down, for the most part, New York waited silently until the downtown slowly emptied of the clean-up crews and police and medical workers and other unfortunates who had been called out into the storm to deal with Doctor Doom's latest attempt at world domination. It seemed rather half-assed to them, but who were they to say anything about supervillains and what they were up to?

At least Christmas Day promised to be quiet this time around.

Cross your fingers.

-0-0-0-

Loki drew back with a grunted, "Let go of me, oaf."

Thor let his brother go slowly, his blue eyes running over Loki's most obvious injuries, his broad brow wrinkling with worry. Loki ran his tongue over his still dark-blue lip and sighed. _Of course, thanks to my injuries, he is going to behave more like Mother than anything else._ Behind him, Tony was poking around.

"This is lame," he was complaining aloud to himself and to anyone who was interested (no one really was, but a few poice officers looked on – they were paid extra to be polite to Stark), mainly JARVIS. "I mean, really lame. For them all to terminate just 'cause Point Break flattened Queen Doom-Bee... What is this – Chitauri Invasion Mark Two? Should've just stuck with the originals... At least we had the awesome Lokster conversations – well, you didn't conversate so much, JARVIS, but as a spectator, it was pretty awesome for you, right? Right – but what do we get – we get Doom-Bees and Loki gets all the spotlight. Gypped. That's what I feel. Gypped."  
"It's not all about you, Stark," smirked Clint, who had slid down the hill to hand a tablet (with an impatient Fury on it) over to the senior police officer now overseeing the removal of the woman and her children. Turning away from the harried man, Clint flashed at Tony a shark-like grin. "It's not all about you."  
"He's just realizing that now?" The Black Widow's voice chimed in behind him. She pouted prettily. "Poor baby."  
"Guys," Tony ignored their barbs. "Finally. You got here – not that you need to lift a finger thanks to our awesome efforts. Loki was a hero today too. You'd not believe it – practically an Avenger now."  
"Uh... I can't believe it?" Clint blinked as he recognized the two, tall, familiar figures who were struggling to their feet in the thickening gloom.  
"Perish the thought, Stark," snorted Loki (but he looked a little triumphant and pleased with himself). "I said this once – and it bears repeating – I want no part in your... moronic band nor in your self-aggrandizing quests."  
"I think I just learned a new word," Clint mumbled.  
"Ha! Shakespereans are back from the hug fest!" Tony's face plate popped up so he could survey the two gods himself. The inventor looked relieved beyond belief. "It was like Woodstock there for a moment. Less happiness though. And less weed... and less sex. Not like Woodstock at all really – you know, I'll just go over there..." Tony pointed vaguely and moved off to double-check Bruce, now being wheeled off by a few more medical workers who had finally gotten down the hill.

Thor laughed, while Loki rolled his eyes and sighed in relief. Clint frowned at Loki and then his eyes widened as realization sunk in.

"You're blue!" Then he grinned. "As a Frost Giant," he teased, "aren't you supposed to be taller?"

Loki was indeed blue. Cerulean blue skin with alien looking lines traced along his fingers, running up his arms, presumably. His black hair, slicked back, revealed a forehead and sharp cheekbones, similarly decorated with the raised lines. And his eyes – eyes a brilliant crimson – redder than blood. White, sharp teeth flashed between dark lips _and that_, Natasha thought, _means his blood ran dark. Black? Purple?_ It was hard to tell in the light. _But the nails of the __hand cradling his other arm are black... _Her eyes sharpened.

"You're injured," She turned away and spoke into her ear piece. "We need a medic here. STAT – preferably SHIELD –"  
"I would prefer Bruce," Loki muttered after a few moments of thought.  
Thor glanced down at his brother's uncomfortable expression. "I think he is still..." He sighed. "It is never easy for Banner's Son after his transformations. You know he will feel so guilty – and beg your pardon a thousand times."  
"I know," Loki replied simply.  
"And he should," Steve came slithering down the hill, carrying two white medical boxes for a small nervous, grey-haired man wearing a huge white jacket lined with fur. "I'm bringing the doctor down – what with Loki being all, uh, well, wow. Tony's right. He IS blue."  
"You wish to hide my true nature from the world?" Loki's dark eyebrow rose sardonically. "Sounds... comfortingly... familiar to me. But then, I should be thankful my Frost Giant nature will be hidden since –"  
"Loki," Thor's hand tightened on his brother's shoulder as he glared at Steve. "You may roam this world in whatever form you wish and should any mortal presume to harm but a single hair of your head, I will –"  
"Whoa, whoa," Steve held up a box in defense. "I didn't –" He sighed. "I didn't mean that. Not that way. I meant, for safety's sake. After the Chitauri Invasion and the problems about the mutant gene – you know, with the X-men and all, people are just... more wary about aliens and things. We wouldn't want Loki being accidentally targeted as hostile by our own people."

Loki remembered the mortal mother's terror. In the end, she had been more afraid of him than the metal beasts. Not everyone could be fearless... and he would have thought her senseless for lack of commonsense if she had not been just a little wary.

"Listen. I don't even know what a Frost Giant is – so let's just..."  
"Eternal foe of the Aesir," Tony appeared at his elbow, annoyingly.  
"Old enemy of Earth," added Clint.  
"Someone's done their homework," Tony nodded at Clint approvingly.  
"Thanks, Stark."  
"By old –" Steve prompted the two men, redirecting their attention back on track. "I'm guessing very old?"  
"You know you could just ask JARVIS for this stuff, right?" Tony sighed. "Uh. Well, it's a good guess. Let's just say that if we got over what the Axis did during World War Two, Capsicle, we should more than be able to get over this."  
"Well, then, that's no problem then," Steve turned to the doctor. "Over here. Uh, super regenerative abilities, but it'll heal faster if it's set."  
"Very well," the doctor peered at the group, swiftly evaluating their cuts, burns and bruises before landing on Loki and his obviously broken arm. "Let's have a look at it then."

Thor easily rolled an empty metal barrel over to his brother and forced Loki to sit while the doctor examined him.

"He will need protection," Loki said in a low voice to Thor, jerking his chin at his brother's still frosty arms. "I'm not used to this form – and I do not know if I can successfully refrain from burning –"  
"Here, take these," Natasha held out a pair of gloves.

-0-0-0-

With that, the doctor set to work, methodically helping Loki to cut away the thin jacket he had pulled on (now ragged), gently edging back the light tunic underneath to reveal a badly broken radius and ulna, the hand hanging loosely. Thor edged close, protectively, while Steve winced sympathetically.

Tony whistled. "Wow. That's – well, that's, uh, nasty. Bruce sure knows how to do a number on you Norse gods – well, not Bruce per se –"  
"Tony," sighed Steve, turning to eye the still antsy billionaire. "How's clean up going?"  
"More than going. It's blasting along. Fury has got this down to a T, or an art. Something like that – or both. So, if we don't need any medication or bandaging or whatever, then I think we could all go back home."  
"Awesome. I'll go make sure the bird is prepped," Clint slipped away, feeling rather awkward as he watched Loki huddling against Thor as the doctor gently administered a hefty dose of anaesthetics ('think baby elephant', Tony Stark had said) and began to shift the bones back into place.

_How long has it been_ – he wondered. _He holds himself apart. Some time since he has felt someone touching him without pain involved._ It made Clint feel grimy and... _Don't think about it._

Natasha, as ever at his side, said nothing but laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"We did some good work today," she said.  
"Yeah." He paused and then admitted. "And so did Loki."  
"Christmas miracle?" she suggested lightly.  
"Impossible," Clint grinned then, feeling the tension melt away as the realization hit him that they had survived and New York had survived and their Christmas had survived. "But then, that's Loki for you – as God of Chaos, it would be him – to achieve the impossible."

-0-0-0-

"You guys really are going to be alright?" Jane asked worriedly, hovering by large windows as the rest of the Avengers staggered in, exhaustion finally setting in. Tony had arrived five minutes earlier with the first helicopter carrying a still unconscious Bruce. After settling the scientist in his room, Tony had allowed Pepper to push him into bed, leaving Jane alone to watch the TV and wait for the second heli to arrive.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the large bruise on Clint's cheekbone and a scrape on Natasha's cheek. However, at the bright smile on Thor's face, she relaxed immediately – only to suddenly feel overwhelming concern at an incredibly bandaged, very blue Loki. A white cast covered his forearm and hand.

"Loki is... BLUE!" Jane ran forward, face filled with even more concern than before.

The ex-God of Chaos blinked as once again the reaction to his true nature was met more with concern than fear or anger. It reminded him of the mortal woman – the mother. After he had shown himself to be more help than harm, she had also responded with sympathy and not with anger or repulsion. _Mortals are indeed strange, but it is not... entirely unwelcome, _he admitted to himself,_ even if it seems remarkably senseless on their part._

"That is indeed true, Jane," Thor laughed. "He is blue. His true nature has shown itself thanks to the cold of the water."  
"You fell in the water?"  
"Lady Jane," Loki said quietly, overwhelmed as the girl rushed away to pull the afghan off the couch which she had curled up in.  
"You must be cold –"  
"Ja –"  
"And they didn't even have the sense to wrap you up! What were they –"  
"Jane –"  
"Were there any sensible doctors there –"  
"Lady Jane," repeated Loki again, this time his voice was smothered by the blanket now tucked firmly around his shoulders and chin. "I am a Fro –"  
"Sorry – what?"  
"I am a Frost Giant, therefore as such –"  
"What? Frost Giant? You're not... Aesir?"  
"No, as I said before," Thor explained with another grin. "He is my brother. Adopted, but my brother nonetheless."  
"Wow. You know Bruce is going to have a field day with this? And this is – wow – like – did you ever go to your home realm and – oh..." Jane paused as realization set in. "Ohhhh... Sorry. Sorry, I'm such an idiot..."

Loki grimaced at the memory that she no doubt was remembering – why Thor had been sent to Earth in the first place and how he had tried to end their conflict. How he had tried to end the conflict with Jotunheim. Jane winced.

"Never mind that," Thor squeezed his brother's shoulder. "That was long ago now – and better left in the past, where it belongs."  
"Great, good idea," Jane smiled. "So... Frost Giant... that means, the blanket must actually..." She petered off uncertainly, her fingers fumbling at the blanket edges.  
"Lady Jane," Loki smiled suddenly. "Thank you."  
"Brother," Thor nudged Loki. "We should get you to bed. A rest is in order –"  
"Of course, right," Jane said, easing back and moving along with the two brothers as Thor helped Loki limp to his now familiar bedroom door.  
"I can take care of myself," Loki mumbled, shoving Thor away – gently. "You should attend to your lady."

Watching Loki disappear into his room and then shut the door in their faces, Jane sighed.

"I did it. I did it. Put my foot in my mouth. Again. Why can't I just shut up?"  
"Never you mind," Thor drew Jane into his arms and led her back to their shared bedroom. "It has been a long day and my brother has endured much."  
"Hm... what did he do?"  
"Well, I was at the woman statue –"  
"The Statue of Liberty?"  
"Yes, something like that – at any rate, I heard my brother needed me and I flew immediately to his side and found him in the clutches of our Hulk –"  
"Oh my gosh..."  
"Indeed. It was hard to – well," Thor sighed, as he began to remove his cloak and armour. "This feels more and more like my story and less and less like his... perhaps we should ask him tomorrow for the full story – for I feel that I came at the end of it and the part I played in it was indeed rather small."  
"Huh." Jane murmured as she stripped down and slid between the sheets. "You mean, later today."  
"Yes," Thor's voice was muffled as he pulled off his shirt (Jane's second favourite part of the day – after waking up beside him). "That time. He may be willing to tell us – I have a feeling that Fury will demand an answer."  
"Huh." Jane rolled over to snuggle against his shoulder as he joined her in bed. She loved how Thor was always warm, no matter what. "You noticed it –"  
"Noticed what?"  
"You called him brother..."  
"I always do," Thor smiled. "Because he is, adopted or no."  
"I know," Jane said. "But he didn't correct you."  
"Yes," Thor said. "We talked. We embraced. We found some resolution, in the end. The best gift I could wish for this season."

Jane couldn't agree more.

-0-0-0-

The sun's surprisingly warm rays, shining through the windows unhindered by the open curtains, woke him up first. After such long days of grey and lowering skies and heavy clouds, it seemed incongruous that such a sun could shine so brilliantly during such a cold season. He remembered Jotunheim – those brief times he had visited it and wandered over it, first as an objective traveller, and then later as an exiled, unwanted, unknown member of that realm in the middle of a well-laid plan which had gone so terribly awry. Jotunheim had also been a place of cold. A place of cold... and darkness.

Earth, however, was a study in contradictions – and after lying in bed for several minutes, Loki edged out from under his thin duvet and walked over to the tall windows to look down at the cityscape before him. New York was still sleepy. Glancing at the clock, he noted the time: eight o'clock. Usually, by now, the streets would be congested with traffic. Now, a few cars travelled up and down, but it was, for the main, silent.

That was it – the silence. A welcome, warm presence blanketing the city. White snow was the insulation, the noise-muffler. And the sun. The sun shone down, reflecting cheerfully off the white expanses of snow.

_Surprisingly beautiful_, he finally admitted to himself. _And... welcome._ He thought of how he had always preferred cooler weather, as per his Jotun nature, yet had an affinity for fire, magical or no. _In this regard_, he mused, tilting his head and pressing his cheek against the cool, frosted glass to soak up the sun and the cold, _in this way, I feel... at home..._

When he crept out of his room and into the living room, no one was around. Another oddity. At all hours of the day, someone was to be seen somewhere in the Tower. Not today. Today, there was a quality of silence in the air which spoke of sleep and emptiness. Not unwelcome – and yet it was nice to know that there were others there.

_I have been alone too long_, Loki thought, moving over the doors and slipping out onto Tony Stark's now snow-blanketed balcony. _But this is a good compromise._

When the others began to shuffle out silently, finding their way to coffee pots, tea bags and other morning drinks they preferred, they discovered Loki outside, barefoot, standing in the snow, cradling his white cast and looking out over the city. There was a kind of contentment on his face, which they had never seen before – an ease to the sharp lines of his face, a relaxation of the muscles.

So, while Pepper and Steve rustled up some food, the others settled around the living room, allowing Loki to have his alone time out on the balcony. Pepper magicked some food from a corner of the kitchen, where she had stashed some catered breakfast – pancake mix and eggs and meat and ham and more meat and lots of protein and fruit and other things that make up a traditional Christmas breakfast. Steve helped, running about heating up food and frying the pancakes. At some point, Jane was press-ganged into putting out the dishes and cutlery and Bruce began to pour more drinks (non-alcoholic to Tony's disgust) for everyone.

At some point, Loki slipped back into the living room, finding a seat by himself in the corner, unwilling to be drawn into the mass Christmas vortex that was Thor and the others. He allowed Tony to press into his hand a hot mug of tea and a crescent shaped pastry melting with butter (a snack, Stark had said, before the real stuff gets out). Then, there was the usual Christmas songs played overhead by JARVIS and one by one, the team came around to tell them in their own special way how thankful they were for his help last night.

"And the blue is gone," Jane had stopped by quickly, clutching an assortment of silverware. "Like, all gone. How does it go? When did it go? Do you feel anything when you change? Is it magic or some kind of genetic predisposition? I'm not sure which look I like better either. Both are pretty, cool, huh."

Loki opened his mouth – whether to refuse to talk about it or to answer her spew of questions, he never discovered – because at that moment, Jane noticed that Thor was looming a little too eagerly over the tree and presents underneath, so she had to run off to shoo her boyfriend away. Watching the much smaller mortal smacking his hulking brother on the arm, Loki found it hard to suppress a smile. The man was tamed by a mere wisp of a woman... He shook his head.

And then turned to find himself confronted with the fact that Clint was staring at him over a cup of mocha (a strange blend of coffee and chocolate, Loki had discovered, but not entirely displeasing). Clint had been watching him from the moment he had slipped into the room, not entirely unusual for the Avenger. Loki didn't mind – he had, after all, learned to endure the stares of the commoners and the Court. All of his life, he had been remarked on, marked in some negative light – and if not noticed, then ignored. Clint's attentions were inconsequential. Still there was a quality to Clint's look that was neither aggressive nor patronizingly and made Loki feel a tad bit uneasy.

Then there was the call to breakfast, which he ate silently at Thor's side, listening with half an ear to Tony's newest barbs directed at Clint and Steve. The irascible inventor had also apparently tried to poke Bruce awake that morning with some prickly garlands. On his feet. The Hulk had not made a showing as hoped, but a very unimpressed Bruce had kicked Tony out of his bedroom. Apparently, literally. Loki's eyebrows rose as Clint, Steve and Bruce heaped verbal abuse (or, in Steve's case, a scolding) on Tony's head cheerfully.

"Really, Tony," Steve was saying, hands on hips, clutching a spatula. "You can't go about bothering people like that and not expect to get some kind of retribution. The Good Book says that if you wake up a person with a loud voice in the morning –"

Smirking at Tony's wounded looks and not so well-hidden mischievous grin, Loki realized that perhaps he had not been a target of sheer malice had he had previously thought. He remembered Pepper's words. _The man enjoys conflict and chaos and refuses to be brought to bridle. Intelligent and full of wit... and sometimes unable to discern the boundaries of commonsense and courtesy. Not unlike yourself, except you, Loki, did understand the boundaries – and chose to cross them anyways._ He smiled at the long strip of meat encased in his sweet cake now doused in syrup and honey – and looked up to find Clint once again, considering him with an evaluating look. After a moment, Loki's gaze returned to his plate. _If the Hawk wishes to have words, he will surely speak his mind. Surely._

Once everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, the large group (now very loud and cheerful and obnoxious, in Loki's opinion) had wandered into the living room and were surveying the large stockpile of presents under the tree.

"Let's all just take our stuff and open it," suggested Tony.  
"Let's not," Pepper said.  
"Pepper!" Tony sighed. "C'mon! If we do it present by present, we'll be here ALL day. And you know what I get like with sugar and coffee and me and my lab waiting and Bruce-baiting to do and –" He subsided at the combined glares of Jane, Pepper and Steve. "Very well, I'll just sit over here and enjoy some nice -" Pepper removed the decanter from Tony's hand and pushed him into the armchair like a naughty three year old. "Right..."  
"We talked about it," Steve eyed the group. "We'll hand out three presents at a time and see how it goes from there. OK, how do we do this?"  
"You hand it out," Jane smiled, pulling Thor to the couch. "But after we open the stockings. Stockings first."  
"STOCKINGS!" roared Thor, pulling Loki over to where the stockings were hung – and were now mysteriously bulging. "The Man of the North came as they said! They are full indeed, brother!"  
"Or perhaps Jane and Pepper filled them while we were out fighting Doom," Loki pointed out logically.  
"Both," admitted Pepper, taking a page from Loki's book – half truths went all the way. "We put some stuff in – and I remember you doing so as well, the day before yesterday."  
"Well," Loki mumbled. "That's true enough."  
"Open yours!" Thor said, gently carrying Jane's stocking over to where she sat on the long couch.

For a few seconds, there was silence as everyone peered into their stockings awkwardly – only for the quiet to be broken by a cry of laughter on Tony's part. Of course.

"This is great! Who's idea was this?" Tony held up two ties all obscenely decorated with various kinds of Santa Clauses and a Santa Claus hat. "I know what I can wear next year for all those pre-Christmas board meetings – and the press conferences! Ha!"  
"It's supposed to be a joke, right?" asked Clint, wincing at one neon-coloured tie currently being waved in his face.  
"Well, it's a great one. Think about it. Havisham is going to have a fit!"  
"Havisham? Who –?"  
"An annoying board member. Tony hates his guts. Lacks vision or something like that..." Pepper rolled her eyes. "But he makes a mean steak –"  
"Oh, that's nice..." Natasha held up three delicate looking snowflake ornaments. "Beautiful... Thanks..." Her gaze swiftly passed over the group and noticed Thor trying to look innocent and Jane's relieved look. "Thor. Very lovely. Thanks, Jane."  
"It isn't funny," Clint said disappointed.  
"It doesn't need to be," the red-head said.  
"Well, what else is in that stocking?" asked the archer.  
"I think I'll leave our stocking for... alone time," was the arch reply.  
"Killjoy," he mumbled, digging past the ubiquitous orange and chocolate to get to a Santa Hat-styled toque*. "What the..."  
"Well, that'll add colour to your all-black look," laughed Natasha.

Clint sighed.

"I also got a hat – but it's nicer than yours," Steve held up a red winter cap and fit it on top of his head right away.  
"And it's a nice red – fits your outfit quite nicely," added Pepper, envisioning the Captain's ensemble.  
"What's blue and white and red all over?" asked Tony.  
"Don't want to know, Tony," sighed Pepper.  
"Capsicle. All bloodied up."  
"Aha. Aha, Tony," Steve shook his head. "What did you get Pepper?"  
"A hat too – a Mrs. Claus hat."  
"To go with the Santa Claus hat, no doubt," chuckled Clint.  
"Works for me," Pepper shrugged and put on her hat right away as well. "Bruce. That's... wow... lights?"  
"Yeah..." Bruce held up a string of Christmas tree lights and blinked at them uncertainly. "Someone used my stocking as Christmas storage."  
"There's a small card underneath your foot there," Tony pointed out a small light brown square which was indeed partially hidden by Bruce's foot.

Bruce opened it and then laughed – passing the card around.

"Tall as a tree and just as green, the finishing touches to our moving Christmas tree – the finest Hulk-tree ever seen," Steve read aloud to everyone's laughter as Bruce buried his head in his hands. "I'd say you're the only Hulk-tree anyone could ever see."  
"Could you Hulk out now?" asked Tony curiously. "There's quite a length here –"  
"Not now, Tony," Bruce said mildly, snagging his card and gift back. "How about you, Jane? Thor?"  
"Elf shoes..." Jane held up Elf slippers and smiled at their tasteful trimming and deep red colour.  
"Very thin," Loki blinked.  
"They're slippers which you wear only indoors," Pepper hastened to explain, noticing that there was a confused crinkle on Loki's brow. "We could get you some, Loki. They look cute curled up at the toe like that, don't they?"

Loki withheld a pessimistic remark on the probability of him being outdoors for long periods of time in the foreseeable future. It would be unfortunate to bring down the festive air with gloom-filled, self-pitying statements – particularly when he was in part looking forward to his regained independence, however pathetically spent it would be. He turned instead to look at the cascade of white that was spilling over his brother's hands. On the other side, Jane was talking with Tony.

"Well, it's part of set," Tony was leaning over to whisper loudly at Jane. He winked. "JARVIS had the rest of the outfit put in your room for, uh, later. You know."

Jane blushed a little and then turned to watch Thor as he held up his gift so that everyone could see it properly.

"Beard and hair," Thor held up his gift and blinked. "But I already have a beard and hair."  
"Ah – but this is white and long, Thor," Loki pointed out sagaciously. "And if you wear it, you would finally look your age in the Midgardian sense of the word... Hahaha..." He chuckled then. "And Father would be amused, would he not? Put it on," he encouraged.

Not that Thor needed encouraging. The usual booming voice was a little muffled through the false hair and it was strange to see such smooth skin under a scraggly white wig – but for a moment, it was as if Odin might be in the room and Loki repressed a shiver.

"Wow. So that's Odin, huh," Tony remarked. "Now we just need to nick Fury's eye patch and we're good to go, right?"  
"Nice pun," laughed Clint.  
"I'm awesome like that," was Tony's rejoinder.  
"I think he might take umbrage at that," Loki said. "But it would be an interesting exercise nonetheless."  
"Who? Odin? Or Fury?" Bruce wondered.  
"Both?" Loki's return smile was sly, and then it was hidden as he bent over the awkward-looking red and green wrapped package which stuck out of his stocking. Opening it with nimble fingers, Loki extracted a cute set of antlers secured to a head-band. He wrinkled his nose distastefully and glared at Tony.  
"Hey! Wasn't me!" protested the billionaire. "Wish I had thought of it though. That's what happens when you have people hacking you right, left and centre. And Doom-bees. And other life stuff."  
"And a red nose, brother," Thor said cheerfully. "Just like the tale."  
"No, Thor, really." Loki replied, voice heavy with sarcasm.  
"Let's just take a picture of you both with the stuff on – for your mother's album," suggested Jane. "Clint, don't even think of pulling out your camera."  
"Loki should not wear his gift if he does not wish to," Thor said firmly. "Loki?"  
"I refuse to put on the nose. But perhaps the antlers..."  
"Kinda reminiscent of your helmet, right?" Clint said cheekily.

Loki eyed the shorter man and imagined impaling said mortal with his new gift. Pepper and the others would not be impressed however with having to clean up the blood and the Man of Fury would be... beside himself... and he, Loki, would have been driven mad by the cursed spell... Loki sighed and then relaxed as Clint got several Looks from the rest of the group. Thor looked, well, thunderous and Steve began to the scold the archer.

In the end, a photo was quickly taken – Thor looking cheerful behind his wig and beard and a mock eye patch made out of some dark wrapping paper and ribbon – and Loki beside him looking super stiff and affronted, a veritable disgruntled Rudolph.

Then, Steve began to hand out presents. A small assortment gifts were from Santa. Some gifts were from the group to each other – and then there were the Secret Santa gifts. Watching Jane unwrap Thor's present (something which Pepper had obviously helped out with) – a very lovely silver necklace with a blue stone. Much kissing ensued and then laughter as Loki tried to edge away from the love fest. Thor got several packages of strawberry poptarts – and exclaimed with delight over every one of them.

Of course, Thor's romantic gift wasn't the only one in the bunch. There were other gifts – perfume, chocolate, cologne, and undergarments of varying scanty nature. Some gifts were meant to be funny – such as Tony's gift to Bruce – a photo of a large crater in a familiar tiled floor. Loki recognized it for what it was right away and flinched at the memory.

"A demotivational poster calender," Tony was explaining as Bruce unrolled it with a deprecating laugh. It was a large poster calender with the words "Stress Management", underneath which ran, in smaller lettering, "when tension balls won't cut it". "Just for reminder of the good ol' days. Well. Sorry, Reindeer Games, not such a good memory for you, huh."  
"Indeed," Loki replied dryly.  
"Well, that is... well... nice, Tony," Bruce said awkwardly. "I'll, uh, put it up in my lab or somewhere..." _Some place where Loki never visits._ He sighed. _Tony... Tony... Tony..._

Of course, there was Loki's small gift to Thor which became the highlight of the morning – a small leather arm holster, hand sewn by the Trickster himself, with a tiny accompanying hunting knife made on Tony's own lathe. Carved into the hilt were several decorations of curling serpents – his own motif, but one he knew would be proudly borne by his brother.

"It is not your style to fight underhanded," Loki mumbled. "But –"  
"I will carry it and use it well," promised Thor, blue eyes shining. "But I'll stab them from the front, of course."  
"Hmph, that still can be underhanded, you know," Loki pointed out remembering his own forceful thrust as he stabbed his brother. A mere insect bite really – but the message had been clear and the motivations behind it, black.

When Steve pulled out the first Secret Santa gift, labelled 'Pepper', everyone stopped to watch as she opened the slim package to find a small box bearing a broad envelope, within which lay a beautiful Christmas card and a certificate for her favourite masseur. It was from Bruce and everyone congratulated him on a well-chosen gift. Pepper gave him a hug and declared him the best, which made Tony pout, then look calculating and then pout again (when she realized what he was imagining and smacked him).

A few minutes passed and other gifts were opened, during which Loki received a nice thick coat from Jane and Pepper. Then two other Secret Santa gifts were extracted from the dwindling pile. It appeared as though everyone had tried to bury their gifts at the bottom of the gifts. Steve opened his to reveal a lovely record player. Fingers tracing the battered edges, Steve's eyes lit up as he opened the card to reveal his Secret Santa – Natasha – and a map to a good record store, according to Clint.

"This is... amazing, guys. How did you know I had been looking for one?" Steve asked, delighted. "I guess you guys have all those spy powers, huh..."  
"We didn't, actually," Clint admitted.  
"It was a girl thing," Natasha smiled. "An awesome brainstorming session in the hot tub."  
"Yeah..." Jane stretched. "I feel due for another one. We should do it more often."  
"Agreed," Pepper nodded, then turned to Bruce. "What's yours?"

Bruce opened his long flat gift and then smiled happily as he gently raised the stethoscope from its velvet casing. It was long and sleek and shining – and looked rather boring next to the more flamboyant gifts given during the morning. Loki bit his lip as Bruce opened the card – and then relaxed as the curly-haired, greying scientist shot him another wide smile.

"Thank you, Loki," he said. "This is... unbelievable... Just perfect, really." Paused. "I mean, really." He reddened a little. "And from the sounds of it, I could've used this gift on you the other day – what with the, uh, Other Guy getting so out of control. I'm so, so sorry for that, Loki, really. For causing you all trouble," he added, brow wrinkling as he looked at his friends.

Loki nodded slowly. "I understand and accept your apology," he paused and then added. "I of all people should understand that sometimes we do things we regret afterwards. Some times situations are out of our control..." He trailed off, forcing down rising memories of a dark planet and a nameless horde behind his back threatening to tear out his throat at the slightest misstep.

"Well, as Thor has pointed out before," Jane said, accepting a suspiciously large soft package from Steve, "what is in the past should remain there."  
"Sound advice," Steve agreed. "Especially since it was an accident, really."  
"I should be more in control – I don't know – I still feel bad," Bruce sighed. "I don't know why I lost it –"  
"Stress, I should imagine," Tony shrugged. "Holiday stress, dude. I guess you forgot what with Calcutta not being the exact centre of the Western rat race... I mean, poverty and rampant crime are stressful and dying people and stuff – but there's something about Christmas that can get to the best of us, am I right – or am I right?"  
"True," Natasha agreed. "I am definitely of the belief that Christmas is a holiday trap and more trouble than it's worth."  
"Stop it," Clint smirked. "You love it."  
"I can kill you in my sleep," Natasha reminded her lover gently.  
"Right, I'll shut up now."  
"At any rate," Loki said, watching Bruce place the stethoscope back gently into the case. "It was more a joint effort on the part of Stark and I. And Pepper. A reminder of your abilities to heal seemed appropriate for the season... as opposed to..." He waved a hand and then shrugged uncertainly.  
"Well, thanks for that," Bruce smiled softly. "It's nice to remember that I can do more than smash things."  
"Yes, well, I also like it when you are not... smashing things..."  
"Haha, yeah. I guess you would."

Jane opened her present and then sat back, eyes wide as she contemplated it disbelievingly. Pepper groaned and smacked her face with a deep sigh. The guys began to laugh – excepting Thor and Loki who looked confused at the very long, round pillow which had been emblazoned with a life-like image of Thor along its sides.

"It's a three-quarters life-sized Thor pillow – for those times when he has to disappear to Asgard," Tony explained unnecessarily. Then he glared at the others – noting how Steve's face was turning a deep red as realization was setting in. "What? It's a fair gift! It's not supposed to be funny!"  
"Tony – Tony –" Pepper was huffing at his side. "I thought you were joking when you suggested it!"  
"I wasn't – I was serious. I had my serious face on."  
"Tony..."  
"Well, uh, thanks, Tony," Jane chuckled. "This might be awkward though when the real Thor is in the house."  
"I don't know," Loki said, face suspiciously straight, as he also clued into what this was all about. "It is a matter of getting two for the price of one, is it not?"  
"I cannot be replaced by a mere pillow!" Thor said aghast.  
"It's made out of Egyptian cotton with real goose feathers," Tony bragged. "Top of the line pillow right here. And I made sure to get it a perfect circumference so you can put your arms around it – but not quite. Just like Thor."  
"Just like Thor," Jane repeated, face red. "OK. Can someone else, uh, pick their gift?"

Steve poked around a bit and a few more gifts came to light – Bruce's gift for Tony, which turned out to be some kind of car care pack. A gift for Clint from Tony – some new high-tech arrows which he wanted to try out right away (but Natasha wrestled him down). Pepper's Secret Santa gift for Clint (cologne) was received with happiness on the part of the Archer and double happiness for Natasha who gave the strawberry blonde a thumbs up behind Clint's back.

Tony's gift was pulled out from behind the tree. He opened the card first, at the suggestion of Pepper, revealing his Secret Santa to be Jane. With that – he tore into the wrapping with the vim of a small kid, revealing a bizarre photograph which almost looked like a fantasy painting due to the fantastical colours spread across it. Fire and light and stars in the background – and –

"The Bifrost pictures!" Thor said, enthused. "Your Bridge!"  
"Indeed – but from Midgard's perspective," Loki leaned forward to assess the picture. "Very interesting – you can see the edge of your favourite constellation just there, Thor – and the star of the Wolf and the Swan..."  
"You know the stories and names for the stars?" asked Jane.  
"Well, of course he does," Thor said, fondly. "My brother was – is – a scholar first and foremost – besides being Asgard's most powerful sorcerer after my father."  
"I know he's powerful," Tony remarked. "We all do. Hell, we nearly died fighting him the last time, remember? It took a Hulk to get him to a crawl – and that would normally make your super-villain goo, really. But he knows scientific stuff?"  
"I know magic and some parts of magic are what you mortals name science," explained Loki. "Of course to label all magic as science –"  
"Super science," Tony mumbled.  
"- would be short-sighted to say the least – but there are some relations between the two. And of course, even Asgard has the time and interest to map the stars," Loki sniffed. "We are not all arrogant blonde fools up there."  
"No. You've got arrogant black-haired fools too," Clint agreed politely.  
"Or rather, ones that lack commonsense," Natasha had to put in dryly.  
"Well, whatever the case, it's a great picture," Tony said. "That's going in my lab. Thank you, Jane."  
"You're welcome," Jane smiled. "I'm glad it's OK."

Then a few more smaller gifts were handed out – earrings for Jane from Pepper and a couple pairs of nice black jean pants fitted for Loki from Tony and Steve. When Natasha received her Secret Santa, she opened the card, thanked Thor with an easy smile and opened her gift coolly – only for her disinterest to evaporate at the sight of the lithe, gleaming lines of Thor's gift – a new set of throwing knives. Two larger, three smaller. Emblazoned along the edges were swirling flames, giving the entire set of knives a lovely, yet deadly, elegance. Breathless, she lifted one of the large knives and balanced it upon the tang before palming it experimentally.

"Thor..." She whispered, and then looked up. "These are beautiful! Where did you buy this? I want more..."  
"You like them?" Thor asked, relieved. (You really don't want to make the Black Widow unhappy. Really, you don't.)  
"They're amazing. I've never seen this brand before – and trust me, I've seen a lot."  
"She's not kidding," Clint mumbled beside her. "Most girls go crazy over Cosmo – 'Tash has her own set of magazines – mostly knives and guns – ow!"  
"They're lovely," Natasha repeated. "Seriously, where did you get them from?"  
Loki studied his nails suddenly, as Thor shifted and then grinned. "My brother, of course."  
Natasha's lovely red eyebrow rose. "Loki?"  
"He understands the power of knives, you see," Thor explained as though she should've known this before. "It is my brother's preferred weapon – after the spear."  
"Loki? He made these... by hand?" Natasha's eyes widened as she inspected the high-quality craftsmanship. "Amazing..."

Loki smirked with triumph as he realized that Natasha would not withdraw her praise even upon finding out who had created her gift.

"I'm going to have to negotiate with you on another commission," the assassin said to Loki, face serious. "I want more of these. I wasn't joking."  
"Oh..." Loki hesitated. "Certainly. I am sure Stark and Thor would tell me what is the proper sum to pay for crafting such items on a large production scale..."  
"We can talk about it," Stark agreed. "Later. Here're are two huge ass gifts for Loki to open." And the shorter man waved at the tiny mountain beside the tree.  
"Who is it from?" Loki asked curious, eyeing the gaudy paper and mysterious rectangular shapes. "Ahh..." He paused. "It is Thor, is it not?"  
"How did you guess, brother?"  
"The paper, mainly – and the extravagance," grumbled Loki half-heartedly. "You always never understood limits."  
"Nonsense. This is for family," Thor replied. "And Mother and Father gave some funds for the gift as well. A gift from us for our beloved Loki."  
"Hm," grimaced Loki, but his heart warmed a little at the mention of his Mother. With that, he began with the smaller bundle of paper which had a card. He opened it up.

It was a card emblazoned with a picture of himself, circa Chitauri-invasion, photo-shopped onto the back of a reindeer. Inside, there was a cheerful scrawl of: 'Live la vida Loki this Christmas!" Loki winced at the display but said nothing, knowing that this was rather kind all things considering and that the hastily written wishes below 'and have a Merry Christmas', were now partially sincere as opposed to earlier that year. At the bottom, Clint and Natasha had scrawled their names – as well as Bruce.

With that, Loki felt a bit more relieved. _Bruce wouldn't give money for a cruel gift_, he thought. _It must be something good_. Swiftly unwrapping the package, Loki revealed a lovely, large basket filled with tinned and plastic-wrapped food.

"This is stuff that will last a long time," Bruce explained and then pointed at a metal device. "And that's a can opener to help you open it up. This stuff is pretty good too."  
"In that envelope in the middle," Natasha added, "there are food stamps. You can use the food stamps to get all kinds of food. For when you go off the grid again. Assuming you want to leave at the end of winter."  
"You assume right," Loki replied stiffly, but he nodded at Clint and Natasha. "Thank you very much for the gift. It was a kind thought."  
"You're welcome. A small thank you for not being a dick this year," Clint replied equally stiff. "And uh, hoping that we can continue with this neutral whatever we have going on right now for the foreseeable future."  
"That sounds nice," Pepper sighed.  
"Let's hope it lasts," Tony said, finally managing to sneak some alcohol into his coffee. "I don't want to go up against a souped up Loki in his right mind. Although the other super-villains are lame and boring to fight against, at least I come away feeling like I can fight another day. The last time we went up against Rock of Ages here, I was flat out on my back."  
"That was hardly my fault," Loki had to point out, with a smirk. "I was nowhere near you when that happened. More like your incessant need to go beyond the pale of commonsense –"  
"No, you were too busy scraping yourself off my floor –"  
"Tony!" Thor's, Jane's, Steve's and Pepper's voices rose warningly.  
"Uh. Sorry. Sorry. Let's just forget that. Open Thor's present. This should be good. What did you get him, Point Break? A weapon? No. Not allowed. Fury would have a hernia. Which would be funny. But scary..."  
"Thor...?" Loki had already started to pull the wrapping off a smaller rectangular box, revealing a picture of two people standing beside a small canvas dome. "Is this..."  
"A Midgardian tent!" Thor said enthusiastically. "We should put it up, Loki! And practice getting in and out of it. According to Jane, it is more technologically advanced than your ordinary leather tent – it can withstand the elements and keep heat inside! And the top can be removed – see! This picture –" Here both brothers leaned forward to look at another diagram on the underside of said box. "This picture shows that the top can be removed and you can see the stars through a canvas top. The canvas top has small holes in it – so it is almost transparent – but not – because you would not wish for Midgardian insects to feast on your blood or flesh. Which, Jane tells me, they most certainly will do, come summer."  
"Can mosquitoes bite Thor?" Tony wondered aloud speculatively.  
"I should think not," Bruce shook his head. "I mean, bullets bounce off him – for teeth to sink into his flesh... they'd have to be, well, high mass... big teeth..."  
"Mosquitoes would no doubt break their teeth on Thor's skin..." agreed Tony, musingly. "If they had teeth."  
"Which they don't," Bruce said. "They have long suckers that –"  
"Let's not talk about that," Pepper suggested, grimacing at the mental pictures of mosquitoes.  
"Well, Reindeer Games here could get bitten thanks to his lack of defences, so it's a great idea, really. Nice work, Thor. Jane," Bruce smiled at the two.

Loki opened the rest. A backpack. A small Coleman stove and several warm blankets and two pillows. By the end of it, both brothers were suspiciously moist eyed and everyone ignored Loki's very quiet 'Thank you, brother', which actually made Thor cry and try to hug Loki, who would only allow the resulting hug to last for a minute before trying to pry himself off Thor's chest.

After that, Steve handed over his gift for Thor – a suit as suggested by Jane. Jane immediately looked excited – so that when Tony declared that there were no more gifts – and that they should clean up, she didn't dissuade Thor from running into their bedroom to try on the outfit right away. Pepper ended up having to press-gang Bruce, Loki and Clint into recycling the paper, since they had done nothing to help with the breakfast. Right afterwards, others went off to try out their new 'toys' - Clint and Natasha to try out their weapons, two floors down in the gym. Steve to dig out some records he did have. Tony and Bruce disappeared into their lab with the poster and picture.

Jane and Pepper congregated in the kitchen, discussing plans for the evening meal, while Thor got into his suit. When he emerged, there was praise all around for the striking figure he cut in the formal Midgardian clothing. Loki was Audience Number Two. Of course, Loki approved – the Trickster had always been careful with how he looked. Well, he had been – before everything. The thought dimmed Thor's joy for a few seconds, until Loki reminded Thor that he should Steve the product of his purchase. Off Thor went, leaving Loki alone with his gifts in his bedroom. He laid the things out on his bed.

The clothes. The food. The tent and the pack and the blankets and the pillows. The coat. These were not bribes nor were they rewards. They were tokens of affection, even if a little reluctant (on the part of Clint). But they were thoughtful and well-considered – upholding who he was and his desires. And a part of Mother's thoughts were present as well.

Loki sat there – in the soft sunlight. In the silence. And felt joy.

* * *

**Let me know what you think!**

**Angst Soundtrack 101 - "The Woman" from the BBC Sherlock Season 2. Just... AMAZING and HEART RENDING. Listen to it. I listen to it - over and over again. Gets to me every time. **

***toque is a beanie**


	39. Dreams and Wishes

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**Second last chapter here! Well, almost done folks. It's been good times! I'll write a sequel to this story... as I've said repeatedly. And I'll be starting another Loki-centric story as well. These Loki feels are dying out anytime soon!**

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING! (Those who reviewed) I appreciate all of your encouragements!**

**EDITED! [May 2013]**

* * *

**Christmas Magic**

Chapter 39  
Dreams and Wishes

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  
With every Christmas card I write  
May your days be merry and bright  
And may all your Christmases be white"  
(White Christmas – sung by Bing Crosby)

Lunch was a quiet affair with everyone split up until early evening. Most of the couples disappeared somewhere. Thor and Jane went out. Pepper and Tony slipped into their bedroom and were not to be seen for a couple hours. The single men (Bruce, Steve and Loki) didn't ask. They knew better than to ask. Eventually, Clint and Natasha reappeared from whatever hidden corner they had found and dragged Steve downstairs for some sparring. For half an hour, Loki watched from the corner, wishing (for the first time in his long life) that he could take part in the simple pleasure of sparring. Ignoring Natasha's and Clint's evaluating stare, Loki edged about the room, watching the assassins and the super soldier throw each other onto the thin blue mats which were spread over the floor in the far corner of the room. It was interesting to watch them battle from an outside perspective. Steve had a very strong, forthright stance and position of attack which reminded Loki just a little of Thor. Natasha, more flexible and calculating, reminded Loki of his own fighting style - fluid and unpredictable. Barton, on the other hand, was an outright brawler who obviously showed that his true abilities lay in long-distance weaponry and not so much his fists. Within minutes, the three of them were panting, cheeks a little flushed - and more relaxed than they had been in a long time.

After Steve stepped back, Natasha turned to Loki and eyed the ex-god evaluatingly.

"You know," she said. "I would have liked to have fought you again, one day."  
"That wish may come true," Loki promised her with a wide, toothy smile. "Within five years of your mortal time, you may find me willing."  
"She'll kick your butt, you know," Barton grinned.  
"I would like to see her try," was the smooth response.  
"Guys..." Steve sighed.  
"Steve," the Black Widow laughed lightly then. "Relax. Loki is, after all, able to take care of himself just fine. In fact, since he is so capable with long range weaponry, I think he could try his hand at a demonstration. How about it?"  
"I would love to show my mastery at throwing blades," Loki shook his head and then lifted green eyes to the ceiling of the room. "Alas, my... Odin - he has as yet to raise my limitations -"  
"You aren't allowed to hit people," Barton chuckled then and pulled down a flimsy board over to the wall. "Who says you can't throw it at a target?"  
"You willing to try?"  
"I don't think this is a good idea," Steve frowned. "What if the curse kicks in?"  
"What do you think, Loki?"  
"Hmmm..." Loki thought about it and then shrugged. "I am willing to try..."  
"He beat up that bookshelf just fine," Barton pointed out, at which Steve sighed.

With that, Natasha handed over two of his knives which he hefted in his grip, remembering how they had felt in the grip of his hand as he had sharpened them in Stark's workshop in the peaceful quiet of the late evening. On either side and slightly behind him, the other stood - Steve tensed - and the knife flew from Loki's hand with deadly accuracy landing squarely in the centre dot of the target board. Barton whistled. Natasha nodded. Loki threw the second knife. A moment of silence and then praise from Steve burst forth and before they knew it, an excited conversation began about long-range weaponry - ranging from bullets and arrows to knives. Natasha showed off her skill and then Clint. Archery was brought up and before he knew it, Loki found himself pitted against the master archer against a very modern looking set of butts. Guns were brought out (by this time, Steve was glad that Fury wasn't about, the director would have had a hernia) - and Loki discovered the joy of target practice.

Steve glanced at the clock and exclaimed at the time - two hours had passed. With that, Loki announced that he had a few things to tend to - and Steve decided to join him in the elevator ride upstairs. Before he left, Loki's eyes met Natasha's briefly – and both were surprised to find respect there. A quick grin crossed their faces, they nodded at each other and parted. Natasha joined Clint on another mat, Steve went upstairs to listen to some more music and Loki returned to his reading upstairs after taking a brief shower.

Thus, there was quiet until five o'clock. Steve, Bruce, Jane and Pepper bustled in and around the kitchen, pulling out the pre-cooked, stewing or roasting items, releasing warm smells into the large spaces. Loki's stomach growled loudly at the mouth-watering scents and, lingering too close to the kitchen as a result, he found himself press-ganged into setting the table with the help of yelled instructions from Bruce ("Remember that the cups go on the right side") or Jane ("Put the forks and knives together on one side, the spoons on the other side").

When he looked up from folding light, white tissues (which Pepper had complimented him on regarding deftness and skill), Loki discovered that the sun had already set and the dining room table was now enveloped in a golden glow of lamps and the ice-blue Christmas garland lights. Setting the tissues carefully in the basket which Pepper had given him and then putting said basket in the centre of the table in between several red candles, Loki stepped back and surveyed his work. It looked perfect.

_If I had magic_, he thought – and then paused at the realization. _I could not make it look any better_. He smiled secretively to himself at that thought.

Thor and Jane came in. That was a big thing. They had returned with Tony's secret order for some mint liqueurs and Bailey's Irish Creme and a few other specialty drinks he had gotten low on (the horrors!). This immediately gave Tony a job (mixing people stuff) – and Loki discovered yet another Midgardian drink to get addicted to: a brown-looking drink labelled "Mudslide". Addicting.

"Dinner's almost ready," Pepper called out. "Get seated, folks! Tony. Put those drinks away. Get out the wine. You sit over there."

People scurried about. JARVIS began some quiet Christmas classical music. At the head of the table, Tony, once he got to his seat, began to open the wine bottles. At Tony's right hand, sat Pepper, Clint and then Natasha. Steve sat the end. Beside him, opposite Natasha, Jane sat with Thor on her left. Loki, as Thor had hoped, at his side with Bruce finishing the circle next to Tony. Looking around the table silently, Loki tensed. This was looking a lot like Asgard.

_No, it does not_, he corrected himself. _Asgard is larger. And louder. More people. And more drinking_. Loki eyed the dishes that were appearing out of the kitchen thanks to Bruce and Pepper who trotted back and forth.

Peppered, steaming, orange-red carrot slices. A colourful bowl of peas, corn and beans also salted and peppered. A heaping mound of mashed white potatoes (with more available in the kitchen, Bruce had said, eyeing Thor and Loki's hungry eyes) and a boat-sized tureen of brown gravy which made Loki's mouth water from the savoury odour. There were also two huge birds – turkeys, Steve said. And some savoury dish of bread and onions which had been baked inside the birds. Stuffing. If that wasn't enough, there was, as Tony had promised, other slabs of meat. Ham slices, sausages and meatballs stewing in a red sauce. Toasty, light-brown buns were piled up in small baskets accompanied by butter. Other sauces dotted the table and even some kind of wriggling partially transparent dish which looked like some kind of potion experiment gone wrong. And there would be desert. Pepper had promised.

_Yes_, Loki thought. _Not so much the same - the food in Asgard had less variety_.

Still, when everyone was seated, Loki tensed. In Asgard, there would be a session of toasts to sit through first. Tony raised a glass and Loki sighed as he dutifully reached for his half full glass.

"To a new year," Tony said.  
"To a new year," the others said quietly and clinked glasses gently against each other.

Thor was oddly enough rather tempered in his enthusiasm during this point of the proceedings, although he still insisted on clinking his glass with everyone. Loki waited for Tony to say something else.

Instead, the shorter man nodded at Steve and said, "Mind saying a prayer, Steve?"

"Sure," Steve said, folding his hands. Pepper and Jane folded theirs, Thor followed suit. The rest didn't. Loki wasn't sure what to did and ended up awkwardly fiddling with his fingers on his lap as he watched Steve close his eyes. The others bowed their heads – and Loki noticed that even Thor looked thoughtful as Steve began. Tipping his head, Loki looked up carefully to watch Steve as the blonde spoke. "Our Heavenly Father," Steve began. "Thank you for this wonderful year together. This has been a tough year for many of us, so I pray for wisdom as we meet all the problems that we may face in the upcoming year, and also that you keep us safe wherever we may be. Thank you for the wonderful bounty you have placed before us tonight, and bless the hands who prepared it, Amen."

A few mumbled 'amens' and they were off. Clint began to grab some of the buns and the butter. Natasha helped herself to the carrots and began to pass them on, after forking a bunch onto Clint's plate.

"For your eyes," she said sweetly, stilling Clint's half-formed protests, which were muffled by bun. "We wouldn't want Hawkeye to get bifocals before his time, do we?" She turned to Steve. "Carrots?"

Steve took the carrots and Natasha began on the next dish of veggies. Thor was watching Tony cut the bird – and then insisted on cutting the next one. After a lot of thought, Pepper and Jane agreed. Thor wanted to be useful and it was kind of adorable. Within minutes, there was a pile of not so badly hacked meat on the turkey platter which Pepper had provided for the men. Loki watched as his brother sat back down and began to dig in – with no demand for the traditional story-telling or anything.

"Hey, Loki, dude," Clint said around several pieces of meat which he had speared. "If you don't start soon, there's gonna be none left for you. For serious."  
"Yeah, you awake there, Loki?" Bruce said, nudging Loki gently.  
"Yes, yes," Loki unstuck and began to take some vegetables from the plate which Jane was passing to him behind Thor's back. Loki made sure to put some on Thor's plate as well as his. Jane followed suit with the second veggie dish. Then he got his hands on potatoes, meat and the other dishes until his plate was one small mountain.

For the next half an hour, there was occasional conversation – mostly limited to "Pass the salt, please", "Where's the butter?", "More wine?", "We need more potatoes", "Great stuffing" and the like.

"Thor," Loki mumbled to his brother, somewhere between his third and fourth helping. "They did not do any toasts or raise a cup to anyone."  
"Uh," Thor blinked. "I do not think it is that kind of feast, Loki."  
"Ah."  
"Besides, Jane tells me that at Christmas toasts are generally not applied to any one person, not like in Asgard, anyway. Long stories do not accompany toasts at Christmas or anything of that sort."  
"I see."  
"Very interesting, is it not?" Thor mumbled around a leg of turkey. "I find it most... relaxing."  
"Really?" Loki blinked.  
"Well," Thor pointed out reasonably. "More time to actually eat – and we can hear each other speak much easier. A much finer way to spend one's evening, would you not agree?"  
"Yes," Loki nodded. "I must say I prefer this method of celebration."  
"I thought you would."

More eating. Eventually all the normal humans slowed down and stopped, saying something about dessert. Steve also pushed away his third plate and declared himself 'stuffed'. As expected Thor inhaled a ton of food, but Loki needed about five and a half plates before he felt satisfied – which earned some odd stares mixed with increased respect from the others.

"What are they staring at?" Thor asked.  
"No idea," Loki said, pouring more gravy to make a small potato volcano (Bruce had showed him the joy of volcano potatoes).  
"Loki," said Pepper quietly. "For a, uh, slim guy, he can sure... uh..."  
"He packs it away," Bruce said helpfully. "I guess he has a hollow leg." Catching Loki's glare. "It's an expression, Loki. It means you can eat a lot."  
"Hm," Loki sniffed. "Most beings who process magic need to eat to replace their energies."  
"You didn't use magic," Clint frowned.  
"Not in the traditional Aesir sense, no," admitted Loki slowly, not liking where this was going.  
"This is about the whole blue thing, isn't it?" Steve said. "That's your, um, Jotun background – and you used ice. So that must be like magic – but more natural."  
"Yes."  
"Odin didn't seal it away, huh," Tony stared at Loki evaluatingly. "That's... handy. I wonder if Fury knows. 'Cause if he didn't, you know he's not gonna like it – unless we decide to keep it on the down low. We can sign a pact. With blood. What?" Tony caught Natasha's not-very-impressed expression. "It's not like Loki can do anything with it – I mean, the other spells keep him in check action-wise. The worst he can do is make icicles and leave them around for people to trip over and fall on... Uh... I probably shouldn't have thought of that."  
"Nice idea," Loki said thoughtfully. "I wonder if the spell covers long-term malicious acts..."  
"You had to think something like that out loud, didn't you, Tony?" sighed Bruce. "That's great, just great."  
"I'm sure Reindeer Games won't try it really," Tony said. "Have a little faith."  
"Now you're sounding like a Disney commercial," Clint said sourly. "I bet you whistle while you work, too."  
"Actually –"  
"I agree with Tony," Pepper smiled at Loki, interrupting what would become another haranguing session between Clint and Tony if she let them go at it. "I'm sure Loki's Jotun side won't bring us any harm – and Loki isn't like that. Not anymore."  
"How do you know?" Clint asked waspishly. "You see the future now?"  
"Well, it's obvious to anyone with any kind of brain that he's different from before," Jane said coolly. "He showed his true colours yesterday night in more ways than one."  
"Like the fact that my brother is a hero, deep down," Thor said fondly. "Just as I believed."  
"I am not, Thor," Loki sniffed. "Do not make me dishonour Lady Pepper's meal by spewing it all over you. I am no hero."  
"Or Avenger," Tony sighed. "Yes, we heard it before. But that doesn't change the fact that we should do this properly, what with this formal occasion and all and there's no real better time than now and it's not Christmas tradition per se – but no one can tell Tony Stark what to do – and as the Avenger family, we are more than up to making our own traditions –" With that, he rose and raised his glass formally.

Loki sighed. _Here we go. A long rendition on the battle – a glorious tale of the Avengers and I will be – _

"To Loki, who saved over fifty people yesterday and survived the Hulk and did other stuff we can only guess at. And –"  
"Hear, hear!" roared Thor, rattling the cups (and maybe the windows a little).

For a moment, Loki's green eyes flashed and his face flushed red with fury and then it died out when he saw that Pepper's eyes weren't laughing at him – they were soft and the smile on her face was that of thankfulness and not mockery. Jane was cheering too and Bruce raised his glass, his arm coming around Loki's shoulder to squeeze him in a gentle embrace.

"- whether he likes it or not," Tony was going on, "we will always consider him to be one of us and that means whether he likes it or not, we're going to look out for him and make sure he's OK. Because we never leave anyone behind. Especially not our family."  
"To Loki," Steve grinned.  
"To Loki," Bruce said.  
"To Loki," Jane and Thor cried together, a few tears in the corners of their eyes.

_The idiots._

"To Loki," Clint and Natasha said quietly, slowly, but Loki knew that they were sincere.

_Against all probability. _

He could hardly believe it. There was no mention of Thor, no discussion on what the others had done. _Compared to the others_, Loki blinked, now very confused, _I did nothing. I fell off a bridge. I could hardly fight – and was barely able to defend myself..._ He looked down at his no longer white cast, now covered with cheery colours and scribbles from everyone. Most of the words he had memorized by heart.

_"Thanks, Loki! You're awesome! - Jane."_  
_"I am so glad to be wrong about you, Lotsa love, Pepper."_  
_"Sorry about the Hulk hug. I owe you one, Bruce and the Other Guy."_  
_"Too coolz 4 roolz! Tony"_  
_"Best of luck, Steve."_  
_A cartoon picture drawn by Steve of a Jotun Loki standing on top of the Hulk looking triumphant._  
_"Iron Man & Loki BFFs 4EVAH!"_  
_A heart drawn by Clint with an arrow through it labelled "BW+Loki 4EVER"._  
_And below that, with a broken arrow drawn toward it: "I'll kill him for you, Natasha. Anytime."_

"Is he OK?" A concerned voice was filtering through his memories and thoughts, jerking him suddenly to the present. Raising his head, Loki looked around and saw that everyone was leaning forward in concern and Bruce and Thor hovering disgustingly close.  
"I am... sorry..." He said, trying not to cry. Not again. "I... just... I don't understand. I did nothing."  
"Loki," Steve smiled. "You did something we rarely get to do directly – you got to save lives. All of us going out there and fighting, that's what it's supposed to be about... and we do save lives, but what you did was really heroic. I mean, we don't have the full story yet, I know, but from what I heard from the police officers, they said you helped people even when there were hostiles still on that bridge. You could have gotten hurt – you did get hurt – and you had no way to defend yourself... You had a choice to go and play it safe and let it all rip – but you didn't... and that's true courage."  
"That is Loki," Thor said, his beefy arm weighing down on Loki. But it felt comfortingly familiar and Loki allowed it, relishing the memories he had when they had both been children and the complexities of growing up and competition had been impossible to comprehend or realize. "That is my brother."  
"Now I really, really want to know what went down on that bridge," Tony said. "I vote Loki tells us the story – in grand Asgardian fashion – and we let this food process a little before Pepper busts out pies and shit."  
"Good idea!" Thor said, blue eyes merry. "Come, Loki, tell us how you saved the mortals and met the Doctor of Doom."  
"Do tell, Loki!"  
"You wish for me to..." Loki blinked. "Well, I used to tell stories –"  
"Your stories were the best," Thor agreed.  
"But the others did not believe so," Loki bit his lip nervously, eyes becoming a little suspicious. "How will I know if you can appreciate it? Everyone used to think that I lied or –"  
"Hey, if something seems sketchy," Tony said, "JARVIS can call you out on it, how about that?"  
"I don't think that's the point, Tony," Pepper sighed. "It's the fact that whenever he told a story, others didn't respect him. You have to promise to zip that lip. We aren't going to want to hear the Tony version of Masterpiece 3000."  
"Yeah," Bruce said. "No commentary."  
"My lips are zipped," Tony mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.  
"OK, Loki," Steve smiled at the uncertain god. "If you want to share the story with us, go ahead."  
"Very well," Loki hesitated. Then flashed a sharp look at Thor. "No comments from you either, Thor."  
"I promise," Thor said. "I want to hear what Doom said to you."  
"Doctor Doom," sniffed Loki, finally feeling yet another hard knot inside his chest unloosen, and a shark-like smile slithered onto his face. "Hardly a worthy opponent for you, Thor. It happened this way –"

And Loki began his tale. It was a glorious story – different from the usual – and he knew, that if it had been told in Asgard, it would have hardly garnered the praise that it did.

But this was not Asgard. And as Loki spoke, spinning words with the mastery of a thousand and then some years, he did not elaborate on the hidden truths behind his actions, focusing instead on what had happened and the surprising end.

_That_, he thought, _is a story for another time... _The tale of a fallen god with a horrific secret and a decision which he knew would change his life. _An old tale, but this time, there was a better ending._

-0-0-0-

Food coma. That's what Clint called it. The inability to move after eating too much. Five pie slices later (two apple, two pumpkin and one cherry), Loki felt just the same as other Asgardian warriors felt after a night of feasting. Sated.

_Food coma._ That sounded much stranger. Loki wondered what a coma was. _No doubt some kind of human condition_, he mused. _Bruce would know._

They sat about the living room in a half-conscious state, groaning and exclaiming upon and praising the work of Pepper and the caterers and the servers (Bruce and Jane) and the table-setter (Loki). And talking about how they loved their gifts. How this year was the best year ever. More commentary on Loki's ability to spin a tale. How Loki would be awesome as an Avenger (and more insistence on the part of Loki that he was NOT going to be an Avenger).

"But you won't decide to ice New York or anything else anytime soon?" asked Clint lazily. "'Cause I dunno if I wanna fight you."

Loki gave the archer a withering look.

"Right. Right," Clint sighed. "Just double-checking."  
Pause.  
"Although I kinda miss you, to be honest," the archer had to add.  
"I thought you weren't going to admit that," Tony said from his prone position on the floor.  
"Slipped out," Clint groaned. "My brain is floating in gravy land."

Loki's face shifted from annoyance to amusement in a trice.

"Miss me, Barton?" he said silkily. "In what way precisely?"  
"Every way," Natasha stepped in. "Most of the villains lately have lacked... I don't know..."  
"Class?" suggested Pepper.  
"Originality," Jane said.  
"Intelligence," Tony added.  
"Sexiness, for sure," Natasha grinned.

Loki smirked.

"My black heart is warmed," he said. "When my five years are up, I promise to keep everyone on their toes."  
"This is why I wanna keep double-checking," Clint sighed, massaging his belly.  
"Stop doing that, it's freaking me out," Natasha said. "You look pregnant."  
"I am not fat!" Clint said. "It's just a food baby!"  
"Now that is disgusting," Pepper wrinkled her nose.  
"This conversation is going downhill fast," agreed Jane. "How about talking about New Year's resolutions. Anyone thinking about that?"  
"What is it – this resolution?" asked Thor.  
"You make a promise to yourself – something that you will keep in the following year. Like losing weight or learning something or doing something good for yourself or others."  
"I have one already," Steve said.  
"You would, Mr. I Never Left The Boy Scouts," Tony snorted. "Do tell."  
"Well, I have several... but I think one important one is to do a few more charity events this year," Steve said thoughtfully. "One thing that Loki has taught me is to remember the people that we are fighting for. I want to do more than just fight for the community."  
"Sounds like a nice resolution," Jane said. "Mine was just to remember to wash my hair more often and to answer my texts quicker. I suck."  
"Well, you know your limits," Loki said. "That is a commendable thing."  
"Loki," several voices groaned.  
"What?" he said. "I was being honest."  
"No, I understand," laughed Jane. "It's OK, guys. Anyway, do you have a resolution, Tony?"  
"Less alcohol," Pepper said. "For me, to delegate more."  
"Hey. I didn't say I had a resolution," Tony said. "I don't believe in shit like that. And if I did, I wouldn't tell you. And it sure as hell wouldn't be abstinence from alcohol or anything like that. New Years Resolutions. Please. I have never done them – I'm cool that way. What if you don't do it – how lame is that? Promises that you don't keep show how lame you are – even worse, public promises."  
"C'mon, Tony," Clint said. "I will make one if you do."  
"You secretly want to, though," Tony argued. "Don't let my not doing it stop you."  
"What's yours?" Natasha asked.  
"Hm. I was thinking about something charitable for foster kids or orphans or something," Clint said. "Doing a kind of exhibition to raise money."  
"I can see that," Tony said. "You were raised in the circus, after all – so that kind of shindig is right up your alley – ow! Pepper! That's my head."  
"Be thankful it wasn't your stomach," scowled the redhead.  
"Don't worry, Pepper," Clint grinned. "I'll get him later. Trust me."  
"Good to hear."  
"I don't believe in it either," Natasha said, as the others eyed her. "I'm with Tony on that one. Bruce? You're a scientist. You go for stuff like this?"  
"Hm. I'm kinda not sure," Bruce sighed. "A part of me knows how useless it is to promise stuff you can't keep. Every year, I resolve to not hurt more people when I'm Hulked out – and look at what I did on Christmas Eve," here he gestured at Loki's arm.

Loki frowned.

"I am in no need of pity."  
"I'm not pitying you, Loki. It's about me," Bruce smiled. "A little egotistical, I'm sure – but –"  
"I think there is nothing with resolutions," Loki said after a moment, reluctantly. "It speaks of hope for a better future. A conviction to keep fighting on. That surely cannot be a bad thing."  
"My brother speaks truly. I know mine," Thor said. "Listen to Loki and be a true brother – and not to just say it but do it as well – when my friends are with me and alone. Also to think before I do. That will be difficult however."  
"Impossible more like," Loki snorted. "And, of course I would be in your resolution... but you are not in mine, Thor."  
"That is fine," Thor replied with a shrug. "You have to have your own hopes... What is yours?"  
"I have no wish to share it," scowled Loki. "So do not pester me on it."  
"Sure," Bruce said quickly. "Everyone has a right to keep their resolution secret. I want to work more at the clinic..." He sighed and then added in a resigned tone. "And not hurt anyone when I'm Hulked out."  
"Except for me," Tony said. "I've got one! And I can keep it. My resolution is to become the Hulk's newest favourite toy."  
"You're a masochist, Stark," Clint grinned down at the man. "And you know it."  
"And I love it," Tony said. "Which is being a masochist for masochism. Like much of muchness."  
"That makes no sense," Jane said blankly.  
"I do not believe it is supposed to," Loki said with a quick smile then. "It is a folly, a mountain of words intended to misdirect. But then, words without action to suit it are wasted sources of energy and have no meaning. That is something I learned from Stark, this year."  
"Ouch," Tony winced.  
"Nice one," Pepper laughed. "He got you good there, Tony. I just might make a poster out of that and put it up on my wall."  
"It's true... And equally true..." Steve noted, "'Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.'"  
"Wow," Pepper said impressed.

The rest were silent as they considered what Steve had told them. What was charity without love? An uncomfortable silence followed while Steve blushed red and mumbled something about Sunday School.

"Sorry," he added. "It's just been weighing on my mind this season - something I forgot. Something I remembered. I've gone and made things awkward, didn't I?"  
"No, those words..." Loki said thoughtfully. "They are well-crafted. And true."

Later on that evening, everyone parted slowly, wishing each other Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Tentative plans were laid for a big bash on New Years Eve. Apparently some kind of ball was going to drop – and no doubt some other aspiring villain might show up – and Fury and Hill had to get off that damned carrier and down on solid ground to at least enjoy ONE holiday this year.

"It's for their mental sanity," Tony said. "And therefore, for ours. You don't want a holiday-less Fury and Hill to start the new years with leftover crabbiness from last year. Plus, I'm sure you guys want to know if Fury makes resolutions. I'm sure Hill knows how to party – underneath all that dom – OK, I'll shut up now."

Before returning to his room, Steve slipped a long rectangular piece of plastic-covered paper with a thread coming out of a hole at one end. _A bookmark_, he had said.

"Of the Love Chapter," he explained further at Loki's confused look.

Loki read the first few words.

"Oh!" He said and then looked up at the super soldier's kind, blue eyes with thankful green ones. "Thank you."  
"You're welcome, Loki," Steve smiled and squeezed Loki's arm gently – his touch surprising yet welcome – like Jane and Pepper's hugs and Bruce's embrace. "Have a happy new year."

With that, he slipped away, leaving Loki alone in the spacious, now empty living room. Fire crackled in the never-ending digital fireplace. Ice blue lights faded in and out slowly. The music shifted to familiar strains, bringing back memories of vaulted ceilings and a chorus of voices.

"'When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things'", Loki read the end of the bookmark aloud, his words lingering over the words. "'For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known. And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these _is_ love.'"

The greatest of these is love.

"And so I'm offering this simple phrase,  
To kids from one to ninety-two,  
Although its been said many times, many ways,  
A very Merry Christmas to you."

(Christmas Song – sung by Bing Crosby)

* * *

**Well, one more chapter to go!**

**Your chance to review! Let me know what you think - I'm always up for chat! Seriously!**

**Verses Steve quoted are from 1 Corinthians 13. :)**


	40. Times and Seasons

Warnings: Language, adult situations, possible violence, allusions to mature subject matter (ie. Various forms of assault/torture/etc.)

Summary: What do you get when you mix embittered!depressed!enraged!Loki (doing time on Midgard) and Christmas together? Tony Stark wants to find out, especially when he begins to realize that the God of Mischief needs a little bit of Christmas cheer. Of course, Thor is in. Who else comes along for the ride? Will you?

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome (especially this is my first time writing for Avengers fandom)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

**OK. First things first. Thor 2 Trailer. LOKI. WHAT. WHAT.  
**

**NO SERIOUSLY. WHAT.**

DO YOU WANT TO DESTROY ME, TOM HIDDLESTON?!  
(long hair lover)  
GAAAAAAAAAHHH! Who cares about Thor and Jane and Malekith and Dark Elves attacking Earth?  
LOKI.  
LOKI... and his outfit and the way he was sitting and the way he was talking and the way he was breathing and what he did with his face...  
INSOUCIANT B*****D.  
GAAAHH!  
(death)

**And then the fact Hiddleston's doing a Muppets film. WHAT. THE...?  
And maybe might do the CROW.**

**Now, I don't know much about the Crow, but I looked it up... and that's just... (speechless)**

**(subsides into fangirl frenzy and eventual seizuring and passing out)**

**- ONTO THE REAL MATTER AT HAND -**

**This is it. The end. Finito.**

**(tear)**

**But I passed the 200 review mark - for a first time Avenger fic... that's not bad, right? Right?**

**Anyways... **

**THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! **

**It was great getting to know you and I hope that you guys hang in there and see what I've got up my sleeve for my next fic... and perhaps also for the sequel to this monster, whenever it comes out. I might be writing a Loki and Tom Hiddleston fic next. If you're interested, message me and I'll let you know how I'll disseminate it. :P**

**Be sure to check out my Hiddleston-Sherlock-Doctor Who-Loki-anime themed Tumblr: dappled-things**  
**Or my Loki-Hiddleston Tumblr: mischiefmakerloki**  
**Or my Hiddleston quote Tumblr: hiddlesayings**

**On to this chapter... I'M SORRY FOR THE LATENESS!**  
**Massive writer's block... Why? **  
**Dunno.**  
**Maybe I just didn't want the happiness to end. Also, life got a little hair lately. **  
**So, I've written this thing... and I feel OK about it. I hope this ending doesn't disappoint... **

* * *

Christmas Magic

Chapter 40  
Times and Seasons

"Take it easy, what ya gotta be so absurd?  
You make it sound like Christmas is a four-letter word  
Its a fact of life whether you like or not,  
So put your hands together and give it a shot

I hope that you take it to heart boy,  
It's Christmas time, ain't no clowning around  
And if you think you got something to prove boy,  
Santa Claus is coming to town"  
("Get Behind Me Santa" - Sufjan Stevens)

He stood on the pavement. Looked right. Looked left. Grey concrete and black tarmac now buried under a thin layer of snow and ice and salt stretched into a jungle of stone and glass. Blisteringly cold wind blew down the wide road in front of Stark Industries' New York headquarters – and overhead the sky was filling with clouds, a promise of precipitation for the evening. Winter had wrecked its full might on the city – and still it stood, a bulwark against the chaotic force of nature. _And yet_, Loki knew, _nature has not given up. It will never bow to mortals – and can only be captured momentarily by the gods. _

_Never give up. Hold firm. _

-0-0-0-

"Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends," the angel Clarence told the upset main character of the film Barton had put on._ A laughable notion, surely. They cannot..._ But looking about, the demigod noticed that the mortals and his brother looked rather serious as they watched the story unfold. Loki suppressed his natural reflex to snort and considered the man's words. _If the man is right, if that is true_, here, his mood turned rather dismal, _then I have been a failure for most of my life. _

He thought of his parents – not-parents – his parents. And his brother – not-brother – brother, Thor. The Avengers rose in his mind. _Some of them_, he wondered, _could they be called friends? Would they admit to our fragile bonds?_

Loki pushed the uncomfortable thought away. The tubby, naive spirit on the television was lying, he was certain of it. And even if he wasn't lying, Loki didn't care. He didn't need people – and they certainly hardly needed him. Glancing down at his hands (now less boney than before) and feeling the warm, dark green sweater that Pepper had given to him a week earlier as an "early Christmas present", Loki knew more than ever what a lie that was. _Victoria and her children, Kevin and Mira... the Avengers could not help them. In the end, they needed me – and last night..._

The toast. The story-telling afterwards. Their excited faces which had been filled with respect and, for many of the superheroes, fondness. _Not love. Surely not that._ But he was happy with respect. That was all he had ever wanted anyways.

_Love is for children. Love is a fairytale. Love is for heroes, not monsters._

_Yes._ They had all admitted it that evening in some way or another. The slaps on his back, the words of praise, Thor's inevitable tears and embrace, their smiles and even the cool nods from the SHIELD assassins. Loki knew then that he had done something that no one could take away from him – he had reached out and found something about himself for himself. And it was good.

"_**Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?"**_

_If I hadn't been there_, Loki thought, _if I hadn't been at the Tower, Mira would've had a worse time with the baby. Stark is useful – but he was a bundle of nerves and wouldn't have done it without me. The idiot. And Victoria and the children – they might have not been put in danger because of me – but then, they might have ended up like the other dead on the bridge that night... _

He contemplated the mystery of it all – the cause and effect of his journey. The reverberations which even now spread outward from that choice he had made on the edge of the road, less than a month ago. The choice he had made again in the alley. He had chosen a hard path. He had chosen Thor. He had chosen humiliation and kindness all in one difficult package.

He had chosen life.

When the sappy movie ended, Loki made sure that he hadn't started crying again, rubbing his long sweater sleeve over his face casually. It had been a near thing. Thor and Steve were definitely sniffling, while Pepper and Jane blew their noses unceremoniously into tissues. The rest looked on with good humour and Tony for once said nothing (probably fearing the fiery words of Pepper).

Loki wondered what would have happened if he had had a Clarence on the bridge looking down at him – if he had had a chance to see his life from another angle. _Would I have made the same choices? _He mused to himself later on that evening in the quiet of his room. _Would I have changed... would I have not given up. Would I have renewed my convictions or found some new ones?_

_Would I have said..._

"_**I want to live again."**_

-0-0-0-

New York woke up for New Year's Eve – and Stark Industries was not to be outdone. Somehow overnight, it blazed with light – totally powered by Stark's mysterious arc reactor technology, a testimony to the power of clean energy and the spark of ingenuity which humanity on the odd occasion showed. Also a penchant for outdoing themselves – most easily personified within Tony Stark himself. It took all of Pepper and Steve (and a stern 'no' from Fury) to get Tony off the idea of constructing his own, grander version of Times Square's ball.

Watching the dramatic antics of the inventor and the responses of the superheroes, Loki looked on amused, glad to be outside of it all. In a week or two, cold weather or no, he was going to leave the tower. What Stark decided to do with his building was none of Loki's concern or interest.

Despite his disinterest in the everyday affairs of the Avengers, Loki did grudgingly accept the invitation to join their New Years party (complete with Fury and Hall and a few other government bigwigs). The plan was to eat, drink and be merry and watch the infamous ball drop and then eat and drink some more and then pass out for a few days. That was what Tony described the general agenda as. Loki wasn't super impressed and said so. If he wanted to be bored to death by witless drunks, he could have done enjoyed it with marginally better company (aka not mortal) in Asgard itself. A verbal spat sprang up and Odin's pajamas were invoked at one point. Fun times.

Still, the show had to go on and before Loki knew it, New Years Eve with all of its festivities arrived. Thor mysteriously produced a package of formal Asgardian clothes for Loki to wear – and as Loki unfolded them, his throat tightened. It was his mother's weaving – in his favourite colours of black and green with the barest edging of gold. Holding to it close, he could almost imagine her scent of fresh soil, Asgardian sunlight and growing things. When Loki donned the outfit later that evening, he definitely felt closer to his mother and wished he could send her his thanks somehow.

"You look great, Loki," Steve said, later on that evening, looking rather fine himself in a black and white suit. "Very nice – I especially like the black, uh, jacket you're wearing. And green does look great on you."  
"Brings out the colour of his eyes nicely," agreed Pepper.  
"Although the black kinda emphasizes how pale you are," Jane said wonderingly. "I guess your paleness has something to do with your, uh, background, right?"  
"Well," Loki replied mildly, shoving down a flash of annoyance, "we can't all be tall and muscular and golden, can we."  
"No, we can't," agreed Pepper. "I like'em dark, short and mouthy."  
"Who do you like?" asked Tony cheerfully, leering at Pepper's asymmetrical blue dress which she had decided to showcase for the evening. "I hope you're talking about me."  
"It's always about you," drawled Loki, sniffing as he looked down at the shorter man. "Didn't you get the notice?"  
"I'm glad you've got with the program," was the swift rejoinder.  
"Guys," Steve said mildly. "Tony..."

The party began in earnest when Fury and his cronies arrived. Wine and champagne and many forms of alcohol were served as well as small bit-sized snacks on platters by obsequious staff not unlike those in Asgard. Lighting was intimate, the music (run by a high-end musician which Bruce called a 'DJ', whatever that meant) not overwhelming and no one said anything to Loki untoward. It appeared that Fury was indeed upholding his end of the bargain he had made months earlier with Odin: hands off Loki. Fury's response was, as it had been up until Christmas, watch from a safe distance and be prepared for something to blow. Loki was sorry to disappoint.

Not really.

_The fact that they are all on tenterhooks waiting for me to do something is rather amusing_, he thought, hiding a cat-like smile behind a large tumblr of scotch. _And a little honouring, in a way. At least they admit to my capabilities unlike the fools sitting up in Odin's court. And it does them good to always be a little wary... considering what will eventually arrive..._

Loki suppressed a shudder at the thought of... him._ I will be long gone by then. I hope. _

"So, Loki," Fury said at one point in the evening when he fetched up by the taller ex-God of Lies and Mischief and Random Shit. "How's New York going for you?"  
"Not entirely a loss," Loki replied smoothly.  
"Hm. Yes, I suppose it's a nice change from whatever the hell they had up there for prison camp, huh. But don't think I'm soft or something," Fury added, glancing at Loki sharply. "You make a wrong move – and you won't know what hit you."  
"Of course."  
"Still," Fury relaxed then and lifted up a star-shaped tuna sandwich, eyeing it speculatively. "We do owe you one for the whole Doom thing."  
"Yes," Loki smirked, enjoying Fury's reluctant admission. _Someone read the transcripts for my "debriefing"_, he thought. "There is that as well, is there not?"  
"You said no to a guy who offered you anything – everything – and you saved the life of that family. They said 'thanks' by the way. Would've put it in the paper too, but we thought it best to ask you first. On one hand, could give you some good PR – you know, get people to think better about you and not want to beat on your skinny ass so much. On the other hand, it could alert every high-risk offender and super-villain as to your exact whereabouts and make you a target."  
"I think for now I would be happy to remain uncommented upon," Loki nodded.  
"Thought as much."

Pause.

"So, you considered joining the Avengers at all?"  
"I would rather not."  
"Yeah," Fury shook his head. "I guessed as much..."  
"Two for two," Loki's lips twisted upward in a sharp smile. "You are on fire tonight, Director."  
"Laugh it up, Loki. I've got two eyes in my head and a working brain behind them, smart ass," Fury shot back. But he was also smirking. "Well, in that case, I'll just make an official invitation to you – always open to join us – and get paid for it as well."  
"Thor gets paid regular wages for his good deeds?" Loki's eyebrows rose at the idea of the Crown Prince of Asgard getting paid like a lowly servant.  
"Thor? No..." Fury grinned then. "He volunteers – out of the goodness of his heart."

Loki's face then lit up as he realized what had just happened and a quick grin flashed across his face.

"Still, the offer is open to you. Paid position and all," Fury acknowledge the grin and relaxed a bit more. "Since you have no plans to wreck vengeance on Earth –"  
"Not any immediate plans, no."  
"I'll pretend I didn't hear you say that. Since you have no plans to wreck vengeance on Earth, we'll just go about our business and try to remain polite. Sounds good to you?"  
"It seems reasonable to me," Loki tipped his head. "Thank you for your... kind... hospitality."  
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, mister."

And with that, the two separated, if not as friends, at least as neutral parties. _Just what I wanted to achieve_, Loki smiled. _My work here is done._ He sighed, watching Thor wrap a meaty arm around Jane's slim shoulders. _It is time to go._

-0-0-0-

_It is time to go._

The quiet feeling persisted – and slowly grew as the night ticked onward. While they gathered around to wish each other a happy new year, Loki stayed on the edge, not willing to allow himself to be drawn in. Around eleven, Stark turned on his huge television screen and they chatted and circulated some more while waiting for midnight to come around. At twelve o'clock, everyone began a countdown from ten, watched the ball drop and there was a lot of kissing which Loki adroitly avoided – and then someone began an off-key rendition of some ancient annoying song which Loki refused to sing. Afterwards, Steve asked the new year resolution question again. At this point, Loki moved toward the large windows.

Outside, fireworks rose in the air – popped – spread outward with large bangs and explosions. The night sky lit up with a multitude of colours which glimmered on the snow and reflected on the sea of glass. Loki slipped outside, leaving the party behind, and, standing in the familiar cold of snow on the barely shovelled balcony, he thought of his own new year's resolution.

_Blue. Green. Yellow. Red. Bright. Powerful. Loud. Lasting only a moment. A show. A superficial yet magical moment – but with little substance. You are thinking too much about this, Loki_, he told himself. _Enjoy the moment for what it is. _

Yet, it weighed on him, the knowledge that he needed to find what he had lost. What a dead man had seen. A dying man had seen. A discerning, quiet hero had noticed.

_You lack conviction._

_This year_, Loki promised himself, _you will find something and hold onto it, for good or for ill – but it will be yours and yours alone. Not Odin's. Not Mother's. Not Thor's. Not... not... not his. It will belong to Loki. And Loki alone. And you will hold to it – _(no, Loki)_ – and never let go._

-0-0-0-

Five days later, Loki was in the kitchen, enjoying his third bowl of Cheerios (_which were not particularly cheering_, he thought), trying to think of a way to tell Thor that he needed to leave, when Clint came in – and then, catching sight of Loki sitting there alone, paused. Loki waited for the usual exit, but instead, the archer sat down a little ways away from the ex-god and looked thoughtful.

"Fury says you said 'no' to being an Avenger," he finally said.  
"Afraid I am planning to stab you in the back, Barton?" Loki snorted, his grip tightening on his spoon, crinkling the metal unconsciously.  
"No, not really," Clint began and then paused, his face registering surprise at what had slipped out. "Wow. That is actually true," he blinked. "Weird. I mean, it's great. I mean, I wouldn't have believed you if you said you had no ill intentions –"  
"Who said that I don't?"  
"Well, I don't think you do. I don't think you personally ever did. That was a bit of you, wasn't it – when you said we were like ants, insignificant and greatly in need of your help – but you didn't ever want to destroy us. Not really. That wasn't you. That was something else entirely, wasn't it?"  
"Hmph, you seem to think you know much."  
"I don't... but, and this may seem strange, but if you'd said 'yes' to Fury's invitation, I would have believed you less. That doesn't make sense, does it." Clint scratched his head. "It does to me though."

Loki cocked his head and looked thoughtfully down at his bowl, his spoon stirring around and around in the no longer pure-white milk with the few remaining Cheerios floating. The milk swirled and the small round circles bobbed up and down. He frowned.

"It does, actually."  
"So, we're all good. I didn't bother you before – and that's not going to change. We go our separate ways and we're not the best of buddies, but I don't try to kill you and you don't try to kill me and we're even. OK?"  
"I assumed we had agreed on that already."  
"Yes. Right." Pause. "So what are you going to do?"

Eyeing the archer, Loki noted how there was no tension in the archer's shoulders and his face was, for an assassin, remarkably open and curious. Loki blinked and then smiled a little.

"I am not very certain. I would prefer to be independent – despite the wonderful amenities of this place, our host and landlord can get..."  
"Annoying as hell?" asked Clint bluntly. "I hear you. I imagine stabbing him in the ass all the time... you know I've got targets painted with his picture on it? He knows too. He made sure that I got nice photos that weren't too pixellated, 'cause, and I quote, 'Stark Industries has an important reputation to uphold – to keep me looking sexy'."  
"Stark," Loki muttered, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."  
"Well... I know Fury got you your docs," Clint mused. "It shouldn't be hard getting a job – I mean, most people won't hire an ex-terrorist at the drop of a hat... and you might get job offers from sketchy places... but, with proper references, say from our annoying resident Tony Stark and the others, I'm sure you could get a job somewhere. There have to be a few people who might understand –"  
"I have no way of finding those people," Loki pointed out. "There is only one of me – and a whole city to comb."

He resisted the urge to say 'if I had magic'. _Magic wouldn't help me get a job in this situation – and you know it_. Loki sighed and began to catch the last few Cheerios and consume them slowly.

"Well..." Clint's voice broke into his thoughts suddenly – and Loki frowned as he realized that Barton wasn't making any move to leave. Or let him stew. "You aren't exactly alone. Like I said, you have us for references – and more specifically you have JARVIS and Stark and Tash and I for resource hunting. Look. Ask JARVIS – and I'll talk to the others."  
"You wish to aid me to find employment," Loki looked at Clint like he had two head and then frowned, folding his arms to glare at the shorter man. Barton over the last week had kept his distance and not bothered Loki, which the demigod had taken to mean a cessation of hostilities. _Perhaps I was wrong..._ "Is this some kind of prank my brother put you up to?"  
"No, no! It's not a joke!" Pause. "Listen. I know I've been an ass –"  
"To put it mildly..."  
"I probably will still, you know, struggle with this a bit – I'm not going to like having you around complicating things –"  
"Honesty. Refreshing."  
"OK. Whatever – but listen. I'd rather you busy making a new life instead of sitting around and not changing and stuff and just basically waiting around to pick up where you last left off – which would be shitty for you – and us. And that's lame, you know. So, as an apology for being an asshole, I'm cool with tapping into SHIELD's resources to soup up some resume for you and collate the references. JARVIS can get you a list of cool employees who might be willing to hire someone basically... well, uneducated –"  
"I am –"  
"Yeah, yeah," Clint sighed. "I know you're a smart ass, but I mean, you have no diploma or degree or anything. Hey, neither do I – but that means you're kinda limited to manual labour."  
"Manual labour," Loki said deadpan, holding back a smile. "You just called yourself a menial, uneducated worker. Amusing. But then," he paused for effect, "as an assassin, you do have to use your hands quite a bit, which I'm sure Romanoff appreciates."  
"Now you're sounding like Tony," Clint rolled his eyes.  
"You wound me, Barton," Loki feigned a shot to his heart. Then sobered, considered the matter and then nodded. "Very well. I accept your... gracious... offer and I will be sure to conference with JARVIS about possible employment."  
"Yeah. And Pepper should sit with you and tell you about interviews."  
"Interviews."  
"Job interviews."  
"Job interviews?"  
"Yes. Things from the fiery pits of hell. Trust me. But you've got your silvertongue. I'm sure you'll cope."

And with that the conversation led to the concept of kissing ass and how bosses liked to hear compliments about their non-existent level of experience, which led naturally to Fury and whether that kind of thing worked on the SHIELD Director and what happened if it didn't. After twenty minutes, they parted ways, both equally amazed to discover that neither had thought about killing each other the entire time.

Progress.

-0-0-0-

Clint got the resume and Natasha gathered the references within three days, during with JARVIS job-hunted for Loki and Pepper gave him tips and hints on how to survive the dreaded job interviews and how to "dress for success". Showering was a must. Excessive amounts of gel in one's hair, a no-no.

All was quiet on the super-villain front as well, which was nice – and this allowed the Avengers to go farther afield and relax with friends and family. Tony visited Rhodey and took Pepper to see her family. Steve went off to visit some old friend's children and grandchildren. Jane and Thor disappeared to hang out with Eric and Darcy somewhere. At the mention of Eric, Loki had declined the invitation, not wanting to look into the eyes of the quiet, intelligent man he had captured and used.

_Not when I still struggle to regret my choices_, Loki sighed. _Well, at least this leaves me in peace. _

Peaceful it was. No music. No constant Tony-chatter. No noise. No puke-some romantic overtures. No faux fighting. No over-drinking. Just Loki and JARVIS and Bruce who hid out in the labs working on some esoteric scientific experiment.

Loki, left to his own devices, and now allowed greater access of the tower, wandered about, poking into corners, finding random fire escape doors, noting the bizarre scarcity of bathrooms on the seventh floor, and ignoring the other staff who were finally coming in from their long holiday break. At one point, he found Bruce in another lab which he said was Tony's second lab.

_How many rooms does this man need?_ Loki thought to himself. _He and Odin must be cut from the same cloth_. It amused him immensely. And annoyed him.

"Tony has a personal secret lab right above – and he's got another one at his Malibu house," Bruce was shaking his head. "Crazy really."  
"Yes," Loki echoed, "crazy..." His hands ran over the familiar turn of the lathe which he had worked the assassin's knives on. "But useful."  
"If you like to work with your hands, yes."  
"You do not?"  
"Not really, no," Bruce grinned wryly, punching buttons on a strange metal box-machine. "I'm more of a computer geek – or something like that. Theoretics, you know. Not an engineer. There's a difference. You?"  
"A bit of both, I think," Loki mused, wandering over to the darker corners of the room and looking at screens and paper and plans and scribbles which hung along the walls. "Within magic there is the balance between the mechanics of the mind and the body. As with everything in this world. I straddle both areas and it has worked well for me. As a rule."

For a moment, he suppressed a pang of sadness as he reached out for what he had considered to be another part of himself, now cut off but still aching like the ghost of an amputated limb.

"Hmmm..." Bruce stood up. "I've gotta pop upstairs for something. I'll be back."  
"Sure."

With that, the scientist was gone, leaving Loki alone in the dimly lit corners of the room. His foot knocked up against a wheeled flat-board. One side was white. Idly, he flipped it - turning it fully around at the sight of writing. _A diagram? _

Loki blinked at a garish picture of himself, Chitauri-invasion era, bordered in a green and red garland. Someone had sketched a Santa hat on his head. His eyes narrowed and tension built in his shoulders as he realized what he was looking at. _So. It was a joke_. His eyes darted down the list. _Or maybe not..._

_**Operation Bring Homeless Loki In For Christmas. **_

He recognized Pepper's handwriting right away. Slender fingers rose, ghosting over the flat white surface – and the list on the right hand side labelled 'Bringing Him In'.

_**Taze him **_– crossed out. _**Talk to him – Option A. Challenge to open combat – Option D. Liaison with NYPD – Option B. Knock out with sedatives – Option C. Give Doctor Doom a call**_ – crossed out.

_Morons_, he snorted to himself. But they had opted for the usual peaceful overtures at first – Loki recalled his flight from Thor and Thor tackling him and the struggle and his pain and humiliation accidentally brought on his head by mistrust on his part and by the clumsiness and insensitivity on theirs. _Of course it went all wrong, but then, in the end, I got what I wanted and they got what they thought they wanted. And then we changed... little by little – and if nothing interferes with the natural process of things, it will improve with time..._

Loki paused at the sight of another list on the left. _**Christmas Activities.**_ Underneath they'd written '_**what he'll love to hate**_'.

_**Santa Claus. Hay ride. Christmas tree decorating. Decorating the house. Secret Santa. Eggnog. Gingerbread houses. Sugar cookie making.**_ Memories crowded in on Loki as the month of annoyance rose in his mind. At times, his own past had threatened to swamp him, at times he had nearly caved into his dark desires, at times he had not been treated with respect (but then whenever had he been?)... but there were other moments as well.

_Bruce and he discussing women, of all things. Delivering a baby with Stark. Discovering cake pops with Pepper. Talking about the Rainbow Bridge with a ready listener – Jane. Philosophizing with Romanoff over eggnog. Crying with Thor in the snow._

Lips trembled for a second and tears stung at the corners of his eyes. Loki bit his lip and drew back. A part of him was angry. Still angry. Would always be. And a part of him wanted to laugh – with happiness and scorn. That complicated side of him which enjoyed the unexpected in life. But another part of him felt inexplicably sad – regret that he had not met them in a more friendly fashion... and that they would soon part because he would always need – he always craved – independence.

"We did mean well," a voice said behind him – Bruce. Apologetic and soft, as usual. "Of course, things got muddled... people were assholes and things..."  
"Yes. Of course..."  
"Loki..."

The ex-god stiffened, not wishing to hear some meaningless platitude come from Bruce's lips –

_**[****but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal -**_

_**a clanging cymbal –]**_

Something in his voice, in his 'yes', had given him away and he bit down on his lip and forced himself to breath in and out slowly, knowing that if he turned, Bruce would see the thin tracks of tears on his face _and what would he do then..._

"Sometimes, I am..." Bruce picked his words carefully as though he were choosing pearls or some precious stone – as though he were working his way past various pitfalls on a dangerous road, "sometimes, I am worried that we brought you here when you did not wish to come – and that this entire time has been one big nightmare. To say I know and I've been there doesn't help it. Doesn't make it right, if it's true."  
"No," Loki finally said. "I chose. For the first time in so many hundreds of years, I could make a choice. It felt good to choose even if some would say that my options were limited."  
"It sucked."  
"Hm. Perhaps," Loki hand, pulled into his green sweater swiped at his face and for a minute his voice was muffled. Then he added: "But it was not a total loss. A man – a god – a monster – whatever I am – I am nothing if not resourceful."  
"It's a gift," Bruce said, drawing closer but not touching Loki. Not yet. The taller demigod visibly vibrated with tension. "And maybe a bit of a curse too. Optimism, however well hidden, can wound you with disappointed hope."  
"That is true."

Loki thought about why he had chosen to stay with the ones he considered his enemies. _It had been a question of survival and an issue of pride to use the ones who looked down on me. How surprising though – that in the end, we gained respect and an alliance of a sorts. A neutral relationship based on a common enemy and mutual respect... _

Loki thought about what he had gained in the end. _A soft, warm bed. Regular food. Cleanliness. Clothing – some of it Thor's and much too big, but still appreciated. Freedom to go where I pleased, as long as I warned the others. My short-term goals were achieved. Loki remembered the Christmas presents he had received now packed away neatly in a large "backpack" and a "duffel" bag, as Pepper had called them. Beyond what I expected, in fact._

Loki thought about what he had learned about the ones he had called enemies. _I now know the land and layout of their hideout... and the team dynamics and how I can manipulate them in the future should I desire to do so. And even more important, I know their weaknesses – Jane and Pepper, easy targets which would galvanise them to great deeds or foolhardy acts. I know who has the tendency to want to believe the best in everyone (Steve, Thor and the girls) and who does not (the assassins) and who doesn't really give a damn either way (Bruce and Tony). _

Loki thought about what he learned about himself.

"I can make the right choice," Loki finally admitted aloud. "I mean, maybe not perfect – but it was better than the last time. I protected something – I helped mortals, people who I dislike at the best of times... and I didn't need magic or power or anything. I was just... Loki. And I did it without considering how it would benefit me – and it felt... right. And when they thanked me, I felt..."

_Victoria. Mira. Mother. All of them mothers._ How odd he had not considered that before. _It might explain their foolhardy readiness to accept me in such short times. So easy to extend..._ Loki's hand clenched in his sweater. _Love._

_**[have not love, it profits me nothing]**_

He thought of the formal outfit sent to him through Thor. Thor had told him that Mother had given it to him before the two of them had left for Midgard, tears in her eyes because Loki had refused to talk to his mother – anyone. She had wanted to beg forgiveness. Wanted to make it right.

_But I wasn't ready. Now I am. I need to talk to mother. I need to tell her. I need to tell her it will somehow come out all right. That I believe in Thor and his intentions. I always had, even when I did not wish to. That I am sorry. That I miss her. _

_That I love her._

_Odin_. The thought caused Loki to frown. That would come another day. _Or maybe never._ Then he remembered the baby. Anthony Loki Hollins. Holding him, he had understood for a few seconds what it felt like to save a small life that others would think unworthy. That he had thought of as nothing up until it had cried out in his hands still bloody and slimy.

_Perhaps he did choose me out of love. And having done so, will not give me up so easily, nor put me away as some useless artifact of war, some unnecessary gambit no longer in need of his attention. Kevin was a foolish man – and, I fear, will make many mistakes in the future, but if his heart is right, those mistakes will not make him less of a father..._ Loki sighed. A heavy matter to consider. _One day. Not today._

"Well... making a good choice," Bruce said after the moment had lengthened. "That is a cause for celebration."  
"We celebrated it already," Loki turned then – green eyes still a bit shiny and eyes a tiny bit red. "The party. The toast. The storytelling..."

Bruce smiled then and pulled the taller man away from the white board into the warm light of Tony's lamps.

"Don't you know, Loki," he said fondly. "For people like us – people who struggle with ourselves – that's something we celebrate every day. Every day."

"_**Sleigh bells in the air  
Beauty everywhere  
Yuletide by the fireside  
And joyful memories there**_

_**Christmas time is here**_  
_**We'll be drawing near**_  
_**Oh, that we could always see**_  
_**Such spirit through the year"**_

_It was time. _

Loki stood by the glass revolving doors of Stark's tower and said his farewells with an attempt at a minimum amount of fuss – to no avail. Everyone somehow had congregated downstairs (Loki blamed JARVIS). After double-checking that he had stowed away his Starkphone (gifted to him by Pepper in order to keep in touch in case he ended up on the wrong side of the law by accident again), Loki accepted quick embraces from the women Jane and Pepper teared up. Pepper reminded him to eat regularly, to not pick fights with strangers or super-villains, to stay away from raw meat in the garbage piles, to dress warmly and to get inside before midnight.

The tall, lean demigod stifled an amused smile her motherly overtures. Then Jane was hugging him as well, promising to send the album of pictures to his mother. She got him to promise to come back within a month to hear about his mother's response. Maybe he would accept a letter from her?

He would.

Thor looked like he was over the moon at that announcement. Loki knew that if he wasn't about to usher his brother back out onto the streets, Thor would be calling on Heimdall within minutes.

Tony offered Loki an open invitation to his towers – should a hurricane strike or Loki begin to lose weight again or if he got wounded from crazy homeless people or worse Mafia (whoever they were). Loki nodded. He would rather deal with his problems himself, but it felt good to know that the one and only great Anthony Stark had opened his home indefinitely to him.

_Ha. _

_Sarcasm._

Bruce and Steve embraced him in a manly way. Romanoff shook her head and nodded coolly saying something like, 'we'll keep an eye on you'. _No surprise there_. Barton nodded also, double-checking with Loki that the resume was correct and that everything was in order for the interviews that he would be starting in the next few weeks.

Thor gave him a bear hug and nearly refused to let go, his blue eyes swimming with happiness and sadness. There were promises on either side to meet more often. His older brother admitted that the Midgardian science was difficult, but that he would do his best to conquer the Starkphone and call his brother regularly.

"Only once a week," Loki warned Thor. "If not, I will hang up on you."  
"He learned that function pretty quickly too," Tony said. "So he's not joking."  
"Of course, Loki," Thor said sincerely. "You will conquer this life on Midgard and will prove us wrong, time and time again."  
"Of course," echoed Loki with a shark-like grin.  
"What else do you expect from the God of Chaos?" grunted Barton.  
"I'm OK with that kind of a surprise," Natasha smiled then.  
"I think we all are," Pepper smiled. "I expect nothing less from Loki."

With that, he left – good wishes and smiles and waving ushering him out and down the long front stretch to the sidewalk.

He stood on the pavement. Looked right. Looked left. Straightened his shoulders, for a second – turned – smiled at the ones who had against their initial desires come to respect and accept him. A new family to replace the old, in a way. Just as faulty and flawed, but offering hope. Hope he had not thought existed for too long. Hope for himself as well – that he could do it. He would prove them wrong and pursue the choice he had made not so long ago.

_Never give up. Hold firm. _

Loki exhaled and turned right. Ahead was the bus stop – and beyond uncertainty, freedom and chaos. His world. His new chance.

_**[the greatest of these is love]**_

He didn't have magic, but he felt like he could fly.

_It was time to go._

"Christmastime, Christmastime,  
Christmastime,  
Magic of Christmas,  
Christmas, Christmastime,  
Christmastime,  
Have a good time!"

* * *

**Well. There it is. The massive epic is done. Longest fic I've written yet - other than my original stories. Hm. I really enjoyed writing this. Some great moments... And I really really want to thank everyone again - for supporting me, for reading and faving and alerting and reviewing and recommending it to their friends. I hope that you guys will keep tabs and what I'm planning next...**

**1. A Jotun!AU!BAMF!Loki fic**  
**2. A Loki&Tom friendship fic based off of "Loki and the Loon" with multiple fandom crossovers**

**Message me if you want details on where I'll post the RPF story. :)**

**Thanks again!**

**See you around!**  
**KI**


End file.
